* 


CYr?yiU>rC1*AV?    VTX\/T  AT> 
.  BRYSON  TAILOR 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


1 


y7 " fi, 


IN  THE  DWELLINGS 
OF   THE  WILDERNESS 


BY 

C.    BRYSON    TAYLOR 


•  There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth, 

Horatio, 
Than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy." 

HAMLET  I.  v. 

WITH   DECORATIONS  IN  COLOUR 


NEW   YORK 

HENRY   HOLT  AND   COMPANY 
1904 


COPYRIGHT,  1904, 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


Published  April,  1904 


Decorations  in  colour  by  the  Decorative  Designers 
Cover  and  initials  by  Bertha  Stuart 


To 

My  Mother 


CONTENTS 

I.     IN   THE    DARK    BACKWARD   AND    ABYSM    or 

TIME i 

II.     THE  DOOR  WHICH  WAS  CALLED    FORBIDDEN  19 

III.  WITHIN  THE  TOMB 47 

IV.  "THE  WOMAN  TEMPTED  ME"           .          .  65 
V.     A  TOUCH  or  THE  SUN         ....  87 

VI.     THE  ONE  WHO  WENT  AWAY    .          .          .107 

VII.     THE  OTHER  WHO  RETURNED      .         .  139 

VIII.     AT  THE  ELEVENTH  Hou«    .         .         .         .  157 


In  the  Dwellings  of  the 
Wilderness 

CHAPTER  I 
I n  tbe  2>arfc  JBachwara  and  abgsm  of  Cfme 

EANE  came  out  of  his 
tent,  lighting  a  particu- 
larly unclean  briar,  and 
strolled  over  to  where 


Merritt  lay  flat  on  his  back,  his  hands 
behind  his  head,  staring  out  over  the 
desert  into  the  painted  sunset  sky.  Off 
to  the  right  were  the  excavations,  gap- 
ing like  raw  wounds  in  the  monotone 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

of  brown  desert  sand;  huge  mounds 
of  out-flung  earth,  monstrous  and  gro- 
tesque, deep  pits  and  chasms  with  slop- 
ing ridges  and  embankments ;  in  the  great 
mound  called  by  the  Arabs  the  Mound  of 
the  Lost  City,  which  overtopped  and  dom- 
inated all  the  rest,  wide  trenches,  long  and 
deep,  cutting  far  into  the  hidden  heart  of 
it,  by  which  men  had  ascended  from  and 
descended  to  what  lay  below.  To  the 
left  were  the  small  army  of  labourers, 
camped  behind  one  of  the  smaller  un- 
tapped mounds,  intent  upon  their  meagre 
supper  of  parched  corn.  The  bluish 
smoke  of  a  fire  rose  from  behind  a  jutting 
breastwork  of  earth  where  Ibraheem,  the 
overseer,  was  making  the  thick,  fragrant 
coffee  of  his  land.  Already  the  loneliness 
of  coming  night  was  upon  the  earth;  al- 

2 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

ready  the  sun  had  dipped  below  the  des- 
ert's rim,  and  the  fierce  colour  of  the  sky 
was  fading.  Away  to  the  east,  behind 
the  camps,  far  to  the  edge  of  the  world, 
the  shadow  of  darkness  was  racing  with 
swift,  silent  strides. 

Deane  sat  down  beside  Merritt's  pros- 
trate figure.  He  was  tall,  and  deep- 
chested,  and  thin-flanked,  with  a  certain 
gravity  about  him  which  made  him  appear 
older  than  his  years.  His  eyes  were  brown 
and  quiet,  his  hair  a  brownish  red,  re- 
markably stiff  and  wiry ;  about  his  mouth 
were  faint  lines  of  humour.  Merritt, 
short  and  thin  and  tough  as  whit-leather, 
grey  of  hair  and  keen  of  face,  moved  a 
hand  from  beneath  his  head,  tilted  back 
the  hat  that  hid  his  face,  and  looked  up  at 
Deane. 

3 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

"  Where's  Holloway  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  He  took  his  camera  early  this  after- 
noon and  said  he  was  going  to  get  some 
views  of  what  we've  uncovered  of  the 
North  Temple,"  Deane  replied.  "  Seems 
to  me  we  ought  to  find  more  tablets  in 
there  somewhere  —  well-preserved  ones. 
This  place  is  modern  compared  with  some 
of  the  sites  of  other  cities  we've  come 
across." 

He  eyed  the  excavations  with  interest, 
eager  to  probe  the  depths  of  their  ancient 
mystery.  Also  he  wished  that  Holloway 
would  return.  Holloway  was  young  and 
ardently  imaginative,  and  one  could  talk 
to  him  about  the  spell  of  fascination 
which  this  mighty  grave  held  for  one,  the 
thoughts  of  greatness  risen  and  passed 
away  and  lost  which  it  conjured  up.  One 
4 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

could  not  easily  talk  to  Merritt  thus,  be 
cause  Merritt  was  an  old  hand  at  the  busi- 
ness, eminently  practical  and  hard  as 
rocks,  and  matter-of-fact  to  his  finger- 
ends,  apt  to  confuse  sentiment  with 
sentimentality  and  consequently  de- 
spise it. 

The  sun  sank  below  the  horizon  and 
swiftly  the  world  grew  dark.  From  the 
men's  camp  came  a  mournful  chant,  sub- 
dued, and  heard  as  from  far  away,  and 
the  measured  thump  of  a  drum.  At  inter- 
vals a  donkey  raised  his  voice,  after  the 
manner  of  a  saw-shrieking  its  way  through 
wood.  With  the  darkness  came  the  stars, 
leaping  into  the  black  arch  of  heaven, 
great  and  of  a  number  beyond  all  count- 
ing; the  night-wind  turned  the  heat  of 
the  day  to  sudden  coolness,  sweeping 
5 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

softly  among  the  ruins.  The  mounds  of 
earth,  softened  in  outline  by  the  darkness, 
loomed  vast  and  shadowlike,  melting  into 
the  sombre  mystery  of  the  night.  Mingled 
with  the  chant  of  the  natives  and  the  occa- 
sional hee-haw  of  the  donkeys  was  the 
fretful  bleating  of  goats,  destined  for  the 
masters'  food.  Around  the  jutting  earth- 
work a  faint  gleam  of  light  shone  from 
the  overseer's  fire.  Over  all  the  night 
brooded,  swallowing  sound  and  motion  in 
its  immensity. 

"  Those  brutes  would  work  like  cattle 
all  day  and  sing  like  bullfrogs  all  night," 
Merritt  said  suddenly.  He  heaved  him- 
self on  an  elbow  and  shouted  for 
Ibraheem.  Soon  this  one  came  stalk- 
ing from  his  fire,  a  blot  against  the 

night. 

6 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

"  Why  are  the  men  so  noisy  to-night  ?  " 
Merritt  wished  to  know. 

"  Ney  pray  for  well-luck,  saar,"  Ibra- 
heem  said,  answering  Merritt's  Arabic 
with  proud  English,  fluent  and  execrable, 
and  an  accent  all  his  own.  "  Nis  defunct 
citee  is  not  good  to  be  disturbed.  Lord- 
God,  He  curse  it  in  way  back  sometimes, 
and  ne  men  are  grief-ful  and  fearing  of — 
um — ghos'.  Ghos',  yaas.  Vurry  igno- 
runt  men." 

"  Oh,  that's  it,  is  it?  "  Merritt,  losing 
interest,  settled  again  to  the  ground. 
"  Well,  tell  them  they  need  not  be  afraid 
of  ghosts.  The  last  one  died  of  old  age  a 
good  thousand  years  ago." 

"  Vurry  good,  saar !  "  Ibraheem  said, 
conceiving  this  the  most  correct  and  Eng- 
lish response  to  make.  Merritt  and  his 
7 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

men  were  the  first  Americans  he  had  met, 
otherwise  he  would  have  said  "All  right." 
He  fell  back  into  the  shadows;  and  by 
degrees  the  chant  died  to  a  whimper  and  a 
whine,  and  ceased. 

"  We'll  get  to  the  east  wing  of  the  pal- 
ace to-morrow,  don't  you  think  ?  "  Deane 
inquired. 

Merritt  stretched  comfortably  on 
the  warm  ground  and  cast  his  hat 
aside. 

"  I  should  think  so."  His  voice  became 
slow,  hushed  to  accord  with  the  quiet  of 
the  night.  "  The  palace  where  those  old 
people  lived  and  died  two  thousand  years 
ago.  Fancy  what  this  place  must  have 
looked  like  then,  the  centre  and  heart  of  a 
civilisation  that  throbbed  with  pulses  as 
keen  as  ours.  Tell  you  what,  Deane,  it 
8 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

gives  me  a  queer  feeling  at  the  roots  of 
my  hair  every  time  I  come  to  a  closed  door 
or  open  a  buried  tomb.  *  Think  of  it,  old 
man ;  take  it  home  to  you  and  live  on  it ! 
Yours  is  the  first  foot  to  cross  that  thresh- 
old, the  first  hand  to  pick  up  tablet  or  jar 
or  potsherd  since  those  old  folks  left  it.' 
That's  what  I  say  to  myself  every  time. 
They  died,  or  were  killed  off  somehow, 
and  they  left  their  city  behind  them,  de- 
serted." Merritt's  voice  grew  slower, 
with  long  pauses  between  his  sentences. 
He  seemed  not  talking  to  Deane  at  all. 
"  Then  the  courtyards  began  to  fill  with 
dust  and  sand,  just  a  thin  layer  at  first, 
you  know,  with  all  the  colours  good  and 
bright,  and  the  walls  standing.  Then 
weeds  began  to  grow  between  the  stones, 
and  the  gardens  went  to  jungle  and  the 
9 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

layer  of  dust  deepened.  By  and  by  a  wall 
fell  .  .  .  out  here  in  the  loneliness,  a 
dead  city  left  to  its  fate.  .  .  .  Wild 
beasts  made  the  halls  their  lair,  and  mon- 
keys chattered  in  this  very  palace  we  are 
going  to  see  to-morrow,  and  lizards  slept 
on  the  steps  in  the  sun.  .  .  .  And 
more  walls  fell,  and  the  sand  crept  up 
around  them,  and  there  was  never  a  voice 
to  break  the  stillness,  nor  a  sound  except 
the  dropping  of  a  stone.  Then  by  degrees 
the  face  of  the  world  changed,  and  the 
earth,  like  an  ocean  wave,  rose  until  the 
city  was  covered,  and  there  were  only  mis- 
shapen mounds  to  show  that  life  had  been 
there.  And  the  city  was  dead  am!  btfrred, 
waking"  for  us,  just  us  three  from  the 
other  end  of  the  world,  to  lay  it  open  to 

the  light  once  more." 
10 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

Abruptly  his  voice  ceased.  In  the  dark- 
ness neither  could  see  the  other's  face. 
Deane  sat  and  listened  silently,  immeas- 
urably surprised.  Merritt  the  hard- 
headed,  Merritt  the  practical,  who  would 
sneer  at  sentimentality,  to  rhapsodise 
thus?  Deane  knew  that  it  is  precisely  the 
man  most  reserved  and  self-contained, 
who,  when  he  speaks  at  all,  will  go  to 
greater  lengths  even  than  the  habitually 
confiding,  and  lay  bare  the  deep,  shy  heart 
of  him  to  its  very  roots.  Deane  also 
knew  that  when  this  rare  mood  fastens 
on  such  an  one  it  is  to  be  marvelled  at 
and  its  tale  held  sacred ;  for  always  it  will 
mark  some  crisis  in  the  man's  life,  the 
outward  sign  of  a  stress  which  perhaps 
none  but  himself  may  know.  And  because 

Deane's  every  nerve  thrilled  in  response 
II 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

to  the  suggestion  in  Merritt's  words,  and 
because  that  might  be  said  in  darkness, 
between  men,  which  daylight  would  show 
up  pitilessly  and  render  commonplace  and 
futilely  inane,  Deane  said  slowly,  staring 
up  at  the  great  stars  that  blazed  above 
them: 

"  I  didn't  know  you  felt  like  that  about 
it  too." 

Merritt  countered  with  quick  eager- 
ness. 

"  Do  you  ?  Can  you  put  yourself  back 
in  that  old  vanished  life  when  you  come 
upon  the  broken  corpse  of  it  here,  and 
reverence  it  ?  Can  you  build  these  ruined 
walls  again,  and  see,  instead  of  mounds 
and  trenches,  a  city  with  tower-capped 
walls,  and  groves  of  trees,  and  gardens, 
teeming  with  human  life  whose  very  ashes 

12 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

have  dissolved  ?  That's  what  I  do,  every 
time.  It  began  when  I  was  a  little  shaver, 
back  home.  They  wanted  to  make  an  en- 
gineer of  me,  but  I  said  I'd  rather  dig  up 
things  that  other  people  had  built  than 
spend  my  time  building  things  for  other 
people  to  dig  up.  It  sort  of  took  a  grip 
on  me — and  it  never  let  go." 

Deane  nodded  sympathetically  in  the 
darkness. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,  all  right. 
But — well,  I  had  no  idea  that  you  felt — 
er — this  way  about  it." 

Merritt  laughed. 

"  I  don't  know  what  made  it  all  ooze 
out  to-night,"  he  confessed.  "  But  I've 
been  thinking  about  it  a  lot.  It  '11  be  a  big 
thing,  Deane.  It  will  mean  a  good  deal 
to  all  of  us,  if  we  can  put  it  through." 
13 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  put  it  through  ?  " 
Deane  questioned. 

Merritt  sat  up  and  felt  himself  for 
matches. 

"  I  don't  know ! "  he  answered  some- 
what dubiously.  "  No  reason,  I  suppose. 
But  somehow,  all  along,  I  haven't  been 
able  to  see  us  getting  to  the  end  of  it.  I 
can  plan  out  to  a  certain  point  with  a  rea- 
sonable certainty,  barring  accidents  and 
the  will  of  God,  that  things  will  fall  out 
as  I  intended.  But  beyond  that  point,  in 
a  way  it  is  as  though  I  had  an  inkling  that 
it  was  the  unexpected  which  would  hap- 
pen. Of  course,  it  is  merely  nonsense. 
By  the  way,  hasn't  Holloway  got  back 
yet?" 

"  I  presume  so,"  Deane  answered. 
"  His  boy  left  those  rolls  of  films  he  in- 
14 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

sisted  on  bringing,  in  the  sun  yesterday, 
and  they've  melted.  I  told  him  films 
would  be  a  good  deal  of  a  nuisance  in  a 
climate  like  this." 

"  He'll  come  out  all  right,  I  guess," 
Merritt  said  easily.  "  It's  his  first  trip, 
and  he's  green,  but  he's  a  forehanded 
youngster,  and  he  surely  knows  how  to 
get  good  pictures." 

The  two  fell  into  silence,  conscious 
subtly  of  a  new  sympathy  between  them. 
Each  had  penetrated  the  other's  shell,  had 
touched  the  hidden  spring  of  a  feeling 
which  both  shared;  and  without  more 
words  it  became  a  bond  between  them. 
They  smoked  quietly,  at  peace  with 
themselves,  with  each  other,  with  all  the 
world. 

A  black  figure  grew  out  of  the  night 
15 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

and  came  over  to  them,  with  the  faint 
glow  of  a  cigarette  stabbing  a  hole  in  the 
darkness. 

"Apparatus  all  right?"  Deane  asked. 
"  Get  any  views  this  afternoon  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Holloway  answered.  "  I've 
been  prowling.  This  place  is  great.  Aw- 
fully lonesome  sort  of  feeling  it  gives  a 
fellow,  though,  to  look  into  the  holes 
we've  dug  and  think  what  the  old  chaps 
would  say  if  they  could  see  us."  Deane 
and  Merritt,  unseen,  grinned  in  sympa- 
thy. "  That  brute  of  a  boy  got  all  my 
films  sunstruck — four  dozen  rolls.  I 
didn't  expect  to  use  them  much,  but  I 
hate  to  have  'em  go,  on  principle.  I 
believe  I'll  turn  in.  Good-night,  every- 
body." 

"  'Night !  "  they  chorused  solemnly. 
16 


In  the  Dark  Backward 

Holloway  disappeared.  Soon  Deane 
followed  him,  and  Merritt  was  left  sitting 
alone  in  the  night,  with  his  hard,  weather- 
worn face  and  his  dream-woven  fancies. 


CHAPTER  II 
ttbe  2>oor  tUbicb  was  Called 

EFORE  dawn  the  men 
had  breakfast,  and  began 
work  when  there  was 
light  enough  to  see  their 
tools.  Holloway,  trailing  his  tripod  be- 
hind him,  and  followed  by  a  boy  with  a 
case  of  plates,  went  from  spot  to  spot, 
taking  views.  -  He  was  a  cheery  youth, 
lithe  and  active,  with  amazingly  light  hair, 
a  pair  of  humourous  blue  eyes,  a  square- 
jawed  face  burned  to  a  consistent  and 
apoplectic  scarlet,  and  hands  much  stained 
by  chemicals. 

Merritt,  his  helmet  jammed  well  over 
19 


The  Forbidden  Door 


his  eyes,  climbed  up  and  down  the  trenches 
tirelessly,  a  wad  of  crumpled  plans  in 
hand.  He  was  in  all  places  at  once,  keen, 
clear-eyed,  practical,  overseeing  and  di- 
recting, called  upon  for  help  and  advice 
in  all  directions.  The  mood  of  the  night 
had  come  and  gone ;  again  he  was  as  the 
world  knew  him.  The  labourers  swarmed 
over  and  around  the  mounds  like  busy 
ants.  At  one  side  of  a  hill  of  earth  and 
rubbish  a  file  ascended  the  steep  steps  of 
trampled  earth  which  ran  down  into  the 
trenches,  unending,  ceaseless,  bearing 
baskets  of  dirt.  At  the  other  side,  down 
more  steps,  a  file  descended  with  empty 
baskets;  from  the  bottom  came  the  thud 
of  pick  and  spade  and  the  hoarse  shouts 
of  the  foremen  of  the  gangs.  Above  them 

was  the  clear  morning  sky,  not  yet  heated 
20 


The  Forbidden  Door 


to  molten  brass ;  around  them  the  desert, 
vast  and  soundless;  beneath  them  the 
fragments  of  an  olden  world,  whose  story 
was  lost  in  the  dimness  of  bygone  ages. 

Ibraheem  climbed  agilely  to  the  top  of 
the  trench  which  had  been  opened  farthest 
into  the  mound,  spied  Deane  making  cab- 
alistic signs  in  a  notebook,  using  one 
knee  as  desk,  and  hurried  over. 

"  Saar,"  he  announced,  swelling  with 
importance  and  the  pride  of  his  discovery, 
"  the  mens  find  a  wall,  unruinated,  with  a 
door  and  a  writing  upon  it.  Where  are 
Mister  Merritt  ?  " 

"  By  the  temple  wall,  with  Mr.  Hollo- 
way,"  Deane  answered.  "  Go  call  him 
quick." 

Ibraheem  went,  at  a  dignified  dog-trot  ; 
and  Deane  stuffed  his  notes  into  a  pocket 

21 


The  Forbidden  Door 


and  ran  down  the  trench  to  where  the 
workmen,  chattering  shrilly,  were  gath- 
ered around  a  mass  of  debris.  It  was  not 
the  first  find  of  the  expedition,  but  each 
fresh  discovery  sent  the  same  tingle  of 
excitement  through  the  entire  outfit.  For 
there  is  nothing  more  stirring  than  to 
stand  at  the  threshold  of  a  long-dead 
world,  on  the  verge  of  entering,  knowing 
that  the  next  blow  of  the  pick,  the  next 
step  forward,  may  reveal  either  lost  se- 
crets of  dead  peoples  which  will  shed 
fresh  light  through  the  grey  mists  of  ages 
— or  nothing ;  may  turn  a  new  page  in  the 
sealed  Book  of  the  Things  that  Were,  or 
disclose  a  blank.  Even  the  basket-men 
swarmed  to  look,  craning  over  the  shoul- 
ders of  the  pickmen. 

The  trench  was  close  on  a  hundred  and 
22 


The  Forbidden  Door 


fifty  feet  wide,  bounded  on  either  side  by 
towering  walls  of  earth.  That  it  revealed 
a  section  of  the  ancient  palace  was  to  be 
inferred  from  the  fragments  of  brick 
pavement,  the  bases  of  a  line  of  broken 
pillars  deep  bedded  in  the  ground.  In  the 
side  of  the  trench  where  the  men  were 
gathered,  a  fragment  of  wall,  rising 
nearly  ten  feet  in  height,  with  a  walled-up 
doorway,  was  visible.  Merritt,  arriving 
breathless,  took  command,  restraining  too 
ardent  impatience  on  the  part  of  the  work- 
men. Carefully  the  earth  was  removed 
and  the  find  laid  bare. 

"Looks  like  a  tomb,"  said  Holloway, 
leaving  his  camera  and  coming  up. 
"  Bricks,  laid  in  bitumen,  as  usual.  Hi ! 
look  out,  you  fellows!  careful  with  your 
tools,  there!  There's  an  inscription  over 
23 


The  Forbidden  Door 


the  door  that  you  don't  want  to  injure. 
Deane,  bring  your  wisdom  to  bear  on 
this." 

"  Scrape  away  the  dirt,  one  of  you," 
Merritt  ordered;  and  a  half-naked  la- 
bourer sprang  on  the  shoulders  of  a  com- 
rade and  cleared  away  the  clogging  earth. 
Deane  caught  a  sudden  glimpse  of  Mer- 
ritt's  face  and  was  reminded  sharply  of 
his  outbreak  of  the  night  before.  It  was 
quite  white  with  excitement,  though  his 
hands  were  steady,  and  his  voice  was  cool. 
Then  Deane,  instantly  alive  with  eager- 
ness at  sight  of  the  carven  words,  took  a 
careful  copy  of  them  in  his  notebook  and 
hied  himself  away  to  decipher  their  mean- 
ing. Holloway  placed  his  tripod  in  posi- 
tion, found  the  focus,  and  took  an  expo- 
sure of  the  wall  and  the  low  blocked-up 
24 


The  Forbidden  Door 


doorway  with  its  mysterious  sign  above. 
He  was  hot  with  excitement,  as  always 
upon  such  occasions,  and  begged  strenu- 
ously that  the  door  be  instantly  broken 
down. 

"  We  have  a  couple  of  hours  yet  before 
it's  too  hot  to  work,"  Merritt  observed. 
He  pushed  his  helmet  back  and  consulted 
his  watch.  "  We'll  make  a  beginning 
anyhow  and  keep  it  up  as  long  as  we  can. 
From  the  appearance  of  the  place,  and  the 
plan  of  what  we've  unearthed,  I  should 
say  that  this  tomb,  or  whatever  it  was, 
must  have  been  several  feet  below  what 
was  then  the  level  of  the  ground.  Got  it 
already,  Deane?" 

Deane  strolled  up  to  the  doorway, 
his  pipe  clenched  between  his  teeth,  his 
hat  on  the  back  of  his  head,  and  studied 
25 


The  Forbidden  Door 


the  inscription  intently.  Then  he  com- 
pared it  with  the  copy  he  had  made,  and 
with  various  pages  of  his  notebook.  From 
time  to  time  he  mumbled  unintelligibly. 
At  last  he  turned  upon  them. 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  tomb,"  he  observed 
with  satisfaction.  "  If  I'm  not  mistaken, 
with  this  short  time  to  go  over  it,  the  in- 
scription says  something  like  this:  'Whoso 
cometh,  now  or  hereafter' — hereafter? — 
yes,  that's  right — '  wake  not  the  soul  that 
sleeps  within.' ' 

"  He  must  have  wanted  to  sleep  sound, 
whoever  he  was,"  Holloway  observed 
with  flippancy.  "  Can't  we  make  a  be- 
ginning? If  the  old  man's  still  here, 
I'd  like  to  collect  him  before  it  gets  too 
dark." 

Soon  a  force  of  men  was  at  work,  a 
26 


The  Forbidden  Door 


swarm  of  ants  prying  around  the  edges 
of  the  walled-up  door,  where,  above,  the 
ancient  message  gave  its  warning.  From 
this  inscription  Deane  found  himself  un- 
accountably unable  to  keep  his  eyes.  He 
and  Holloway  discussed  it  in  low  tones, 
to  the  accompaniment  of  the  thud  of  fall- 
ing pick  and  spade.  Holloway  wavered 
between  the  seductive  idea  of  buried  treas- 
ure, whose  owner  had  perhaps  sought  to 
guard  it  with  a  theatrical  warning,  and 
the  bejewelled  mummy  of  the  king  he 
wished  to  collect.  Deane  hoped  there 
would  be  tablets  to  decipher ;  Merritt  said 
nothing.  When  Holloway  questioned, 
wishing  his  theories  on  the  subject,  Mer- 
ritt answered  shortly : 

"  I'm  not  expecting  anything  in  these 

countries  any  more.    It's  the  unexpected 
27 


The  Forbidden  Door 


that  turns  up  and  floors  you,  no  matter 
what  you  think  you'll  get." 

"  You're  right  about  these  countries !  " 
quoth  Holloway  with  sudden  enthusiasm. 
"  They  don't  follow  the  rules  and  regula- 
tions of  Home.  After  all,  I  suppose 
there's  no  reason  why  queer  things 
shouldn't  happen  in  queer  lands.  You 
don't  understand  'em — you  can't  under- 
stand 'em — but,  my  aunt !  don't  they  catch 
you  right  where  you  live  sometimes! 
There's  something  about  these  Eastern 
lands  that  goes  beyond  the  depth  of  a 
Westerner.  It's  in  the  very  air  of  the 
place,  and  it's  got  into  the  people.  I've 
knocked  around  some  in  India  and  Egypt 
and  all  that,  but  I  know  precious  little 
more  about  them,  except  on  the  surface, 
than  when  I  began.  There's  something 
28 


The  Forbidden  Door 


that  gets  away  from  you;  you  can't  get 
close  enough  to  it  to  analyse  it ;  you  know 
it's  there,  but  you  can't  give  it  a  name. 
Even  the  little  simple  things  seem  some- 
how different.  I've  stood  for  hours  out- 
side a  Buddhist  temple,  just  listening  to  a 
woman  praying  that  prayer  of  theirs — 
'  Om  mani  padme  Hum! '  until  I  could  al- 
most fancy  I  was  a  Buddhist  myself, 
praying  with  her.  There's  mystery  all 
through  it  to  me,  and  always  will  be.  You 
see  things  and  know  them  to  exist,  as  well 
as  you  know  anything,  and  can't  account 
for  them.  And — well,  once  or  twice  I 
haven't  seen  things,  but  I  knew  they  were 
there  all  the  same.  I  think  it  must  be 
what's  behind  all  this — the  past  back  of  it, 
that  makes  it  so  deuced  queer.  Why, 

when  I  was  in  Darjeeling " 

29 


The  Forbidden  Door 


But  his  audience  melted  away,  and  Hol- 
loway,  his  spirits  nowise  dampened  by  the 
curtailment  of  his  reminiscences,  went  and 
helped  the  workmen  dig,  and  sang  their 
weird  labour  chants  with  them,  with  the 
harsh  rattling  chorus  of  pick  and  spade 
in  them,  and  succeeded  in  infusing  the 
men  with  his  own  overflowing  enthu- 
siasm, so  that  the  work  went  on  by 
strides. 

The  sun  climbed  higher,  and  the  heat 
became  great.  Some  of  the  men  showed 
signs  of  exhaustion. 

"  We'll  have  to  knock  off  for  a  while," 
Merritt  said  with  reluctance.  "  It's  ten 
o'clock  already.  Deane,  better  keep  your 
hat  on  if  you're  going  up.  It's  hot  enough 
in  the  sun  to  give  you  a  stroke  in  ten 
minutes." 

30 


The  Forbidden  Door 


Deane  sat  on  the  stump  of  a  broken  col- 
umn and  fanned  his  flushed  face  with  his 
grey  campaign  hat. 

"I've  got  a  nasty  headache  on  already," 
he  admitted.  "  Hi !  Ibraheem !  Go  to  my 
tent,  will  you,  and  get  the  blue  bottle  out 
of  my  medicine  chest.  The  blue  bottle, 
remember ;  it's  the  only  blue  bottle  there. 
Put  a  spoonful  in  a  cup  of  water  and  bring 
it  here." 

Ibraheem  departed. 

"  Better  try  something  a  bit  stronger," 
Merritt  suggested.. 

Deane  demurred. 

"  No ;  it's  nothing  but  the  beginning 
of  a  headache.  Bromo  will  cure  it  quicker 
than  anything." 

Ibraheem  returned  shortly  with  the 
cup.  Deane  drank  his  dose,  put  on  his 
31 


The  Forbidden  Door 


hat,  and  went  off  among  the  workmen  to 
watch  the  progress. 

When  a  halt  was  called,  the  rubbish  had 
been  cleared  away  considerably,  and  some 
of  the  smaller  bricks  that  blocked  the  en- 
trance were  out.  Each  man  came  up  and 
peered  solemnly  through  the  gap,  express- 
ing disappointment  when  he  saw  nothing 
but  blackness.  Holloway  created  a  mild 
sensation  by  declaring  with  his  wonted 
vigour  that  he  saw  a  pin-point  of  light 
within.  He  was  greatly  chaffed,  but 
stuck  to  his  point  manfully,  even  though 
he  admitted  that  it  "  looked  queer,"  and 
he  could  not  at  all  account  for  it. 

The    men    came    filing   up    from    the 

trenches  to  stretch  themselves  in  the  shade 

of  the  mounds.     Holloway,  being  young 

and  of  indomitable  enthusiasms,  took  him- 

32 


The  Forbidden  Door 


self  off  to  develop  his  negatives,  refusing 
to  rest.  Deane  spread  a  mosquito  net 
carefully  over  himself  to  keep  off  maraud- 
ing flies,  and  went  to  sleep  in  the  lee 
of  the  nearest  mound.  Merritt,  pipe 
in  mouth,  sat  where  he  and  Deane  had 
talked  the  night  before,  and  stared  out 
over  the  plain  with  sombre,  thoughtful 
eyes. 

As  the  burning  day  wore  on,  the  ribald 
chatter  of  the  natives  ceased.  They  slept 
serenely  while  the  shade  lasted,  making 
the  most  of  their  time  of  rest.  When  the 
sun,  striding  across  the  brazen  sky, 
touched  them  where  they  lay,  they  woke, 
rose,  moved  in  a  body  to  fresh  shelter, 
and  slept  again.  Also  the  white  men 
moved,  in  unison  with  them ;  Deane,  half- 
awake,  feverish  with  sleep,  stumbling  in 
33 


The  Forbidden  Door 


his  mosquito  net.  Where  he  fell  he  lay 
and  slept  again,  breathing  heavily,  with 
restless  turnings.  In  his  dreams  was  a 
vast  procession  of  brown-legged  creatures 
who  trailed  endlessly  up  and  down,  com- 
ing from  nowhere,  going  nowhere,  who, 
each  as  it  passed  him,  emptied  a  hod  of 
dry  brown  earth  upon  him  so  that  its 
weight  pressed  him  down,  and  always 
down,  into  the  earth,  and  shouted  in  his 
ears :  "  Whoso  cometh,  now  or  hereafter, 
let  him  not  wake  the  soul  that  sleeps 
within ! "  Each  voice  grew  louder  and 
more  menacing,  though  he  could  not  un- 
derstand why  the  brown  creatures  should 
threaten  him;  and  as  he  tried  to  escape, 
they  piled  more  earth  upon  him ;  so  that, 
as  he  smothered  to  death,  he  woke  with  a 
gasp  to  find  Holloway's  hands  heavy  on 
34 


The  Forbidden  Door 


his  shoulders,  and  Holloway's  voice  cry- 
ing: 

"  Get  up,  man !  Oh,  get  up,  I  tell  you ! 
They've  got  the  door  down,  and  we're 
going  in  while  the  light  lasts." 

Deane  jumped  to  his  feet,  his  head  still 
aswim,  casting  aside  the  mosquito  net; 
and  together  they  raced  down  the  trench 
to  where  a  crowd  had  gathered  about  a 
four-foot  opening,  yawning  black.  Near- 
est the  entrance  was  Merritt,  his  face  al- 
ways pale  with  excitement,  a  shovel  in 
his  hands.  He  was  as  a  detective  who  has 
found  a  clue  to  a  tangled  mystery — a 
miner  who  sees  long-hoped-for  signs  of 
gold.  Above  his  head  the  strange  message 
blazoned  forth  its  warning,  the  East 
guarding  her  secrets,  even  in  death,  from 
the  eyes  of  the  all-seeking  West.  To  him 
35 


The  Forbidden  Door 


it  was  never  the  routine  of  work,  but  the 
unfolding  of  a  page  whereon  dead  hands 
had  traced  the  history  of  a  vanished 
world.  Over  his  shoulder  he  beckoned 
Deane  and  Hollo  way  to  him,  stooping 
the  while  to  peer  into  the  low  entrance. 
Before  this  was  a  mass  of  rubbish, 
with  the  bricks  which  had  been  re- 
moved. 

"  Look  in  there !  "  he  exclaimed.  His 
words  snapped  like  a  whip-lash.  His  eyes 
were  keen  and  eager.  "  Does  either  of 
you  see  a — a  light?  " 

Instantly  they  craned  closer.  Deane 
said: 

"  A  what  ?  " — and  glanced  at  Merritt 
apprehensively;  Holloway  ejaculated: 

"A — light !  "  in  incredulous  italics. 

But  then  Holloway,  gazing  within, 
36 


The  Forbidden  Door 


clutched  Deane  beside  him,  and  said 
shrilly : 

"It  is!  By  George,  it  is!  Didn't  I 
say  I  saw  a  gleam  when  the  first  break 
was  made,  and  didn't  you  rot  me 
for  it?  But,  oh,  my  Lord!  how  could 
a  light  get  in  there,  fifty  feet  below  the 
ground !  " 

"A  reflection  of  outside  light  on  some- 
thing burnished  within,"  Deane  suggested 
at  random. 

Merritt  lighted  his  lantern. 

"  We'll  have  time  to  take  a  look,"  he 
said,  quietly  enough.  "  It's  in  a  first-class 
state  of  preservation — the  first  chamber 
we've  found  not  crushed  in  and  filled  with 
rubbish.  Come  along,  you  two,  but  bring 
your  lamps." 

He  picked  his  way  through  the  debris, 
37 


The  Forbidden  Door 


and  lifted  one  leg  over  the  stone  which 
formed  the  threshold,  flinging  the  light  of 
his  lantern  ahead.  Deane  and  Holloway 
followed  close  upon  his  heels.  The  three 
stood  within  the  tomb.  Earth  and  stone 
had  done  what  might  be  done  to  hold  the 
secret  given  to  their  keeping,  but  man  had 
conquered.  The  grave  of  the  past  was 
giving  up  its  dead. 

Before  them  was  a  short  passage,  not 
high  enough  for  them  to  stand  erect, 
slanting  sharply  downward,  and  turning 
to  the  right  a  rod  ahead.  The  angle  of 
the  wall  hid  what  lay  beyond.  By  the 
light  of  the  three  lamps,  which  cast  itself 
into  the  blackness,  it  could  be  seen  that 
walls  and  roofs  were  of  great  blocks  of 
stone,  roughly  hammer-dressed. 

"  I  expected  to  find  it  caved  in,"  came 
38 


The  Forbidden  Door 


Holloway's  voice  from  the  background. 
"  Think  of  the  pressure  on  top." 

"  Yes ;  but  this  was  deep  underground 
in  the  beginning.  The  intermediate  layer 
of  earth  must  have  helped  support  the 
mass  which  gradually  formed  above.  Be- 
sides, it  would  take  a " 

It  was  then  that  Deane,  somewhat  in 
the  lead,  turned  the  corner  of  the  passage, 
and  gave  back  upon  them  with  a  gasp 
and  an  oath,  cutting  Merritt's  speech  in 
two. 

"  There's  something  queer  about  this !  " 
he  muttered. 

The  turn  of  the  passage  led  on  a  level 
a  couple  of  yards  farther.  Here  it  was 
blocked  by  another  entrance,  likewise 
walled  up.  On  a  square  stone  beside  this 
door  stood  a  lamp  of  clay  from  which 
39 


The  Forbidden  Door 


came,  not  a  flame,  but  a  pale  radiance  as 
from  some  material  highly  phosphorescent 
within,  dim  and  feeble  as  though  all  but 
burned  out.  It  was  as  though  some  liv- 
ing hand  had  placed  it  there  but  a  little 
while  before,  behind  those  sealed-up 
walls,  far  down  below  the  ground;  a 
small  atom  of  life,  set  in  the  midst  of 
universal  death,  that  smote  them  with  an 
instant's  shock  as  of  something  super- 
natural, not  of  earth. 

Merritt  said  — "  Good  God !  look  at 
that ! "  below  his  breath,  and  halted,  as 
one  in  presence  of  some  power  which  had 
risen  suddenly  from  the  opened  grave  to 
mock  at  men.  Confronting  them  thus,  it 
was  uncanny — a  sentient  thing  with  an 
individuality  of  its  own.  Deane,  staring 
at  it  in  fascination,  said : 
40 


The  Forbidden  Door 


"  It  can't  have  been  burning  here  these 
thousand  years,  ever  since  that  outer  door 
was  bricked  up — why,  it's  impossible. 
It's  absurd.  There  must  be  some  other 
way  of  entering.  Someone  must  have 
been  here  before  us." 

They  drew  together,  all  three,  and 
looked  at  it  with  wonder  and  with  awe. 
The  suggestion  of  it  held  them  silent ;  the 
unexpectedness  of  it  left  them  blank. 
Holloway,  peering  among  the  shadows, 
said  abruptly : 

"Turn  your  lanterns  away  a  minute. 
Or  shade  them  so  the  light  won't  fall 
ahead.  So !  Now ! "  His  voice  fairly 
shook  with  eagerness.  "  Look  over  the 
top  of  this  door.  There's  an  inscrip- 
tion— see?  right  over  it — in  big  letters — 
and  that  lamp  is  placed  precisely  where  it 
41 


The  Forbidden  Door 


will  throw  light  on  it.  That's  why  it  is 
here — so  that  no  one  could  possibly  come 
to  this  door  without  seeing  those  letters. 
And  when  the  light  was  brighter  they 
must  have  been  plain  as  print.  Read  'em, 
Deane,  quick." 

Deane  read,  recognizing  the  word  as 
one  he  had  seen  at  times  before.  It  was 
a  single  word : 

"  Forbidden." 

But  as  they  moved  forward  to  look  at 
it,  the  pale  radiance,  shining  for  untold 
years  in  that  silent  place,  brightened  in 
the  wave  of  air  they  swept  on  with 
them,  burned  bravely  an  instant,  and 
went  quietly  into  nothingness.  At  once 
the  clutch  of  death,  held  a  thousand 
years  at  bay  by  its  faint  spark  of  life, 

settled    heavily    on    the   place.     Merritt 
42 


The  Forbidden  Door 


gave  an  exclamation  of  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. 

"  This  must  be  where  the  old  king  lies," 
Holloway  observed.  "  Shall  we  try  it 
now?  See  here;  these  stones  aren't  one- 
fifth  as  heavy  as  those  outside.  I — by 
George!  Here's  one  I  can  move.  It 
might  as  well  be  dark  as  daylight,  because 
we'll  have  to  work  with  lanterns  anyhow. 
I'll  call  up  Ibraheem." 

Ibraheem  came,  with  two  men  and 
weapons  of  attack.  The  passage  was 
too  narrow  to  admit  of  more  than  two 
working  at  once;  as  it  was,  they  were 
cramped  for  room  and  gasped  for 
breath. 

But  by  degrees,  each  man  taking  his 
turn,  the  door  was  broken  out.  Merritt, 
trimming  his  lamp  afresh,  stepped  inside. 
43 


The  Forbidden  Door 


Those  waiting  heard  a  stumble  and  a 
shout. 

"  Come  in,  you  fellows !  Bring  lights. 
There's  something  here." 

Promptly  the  two  were  after  him. 
As  they  came,  Merritt  cried  out 
sharply : 

"Take  care!  You'll  step  on  it!  It's 
lying  just  inside  the  threshold." 

Deane,  entering  first,  threw  his  light 
ahead,  and  saw  a  thing  huddled  close  to 
the  door.  Over  it  he  stepped  with  care, 
and  stooped  beside  Merritt  to  examine. 
Holloway,  half  in  and  half  out  of  the  low 
doorway,  peered  down  at  them;  over  his 
shoulder  Ibraheem  stretched  his  swarthy 
face. 

"  It's  a  mummy,  sure  enough,"  Hollo- 
way  said,  holding  his  light  close.  "  But 
44 


The  Forbidden  Door 


it's  not  wrapped  in  bandages,  and  it's 
not  in  any  mummy-case.  Just  natu- 
rally dried  up,  I  guess.  Turn  it  over, 
Deane." 


45 


CHAPTER  III 
Wtbfn  tbc  Uomb 

]Y  now  the  lamps  had 
steadied  to  brighter  burn- 
ing, so  that  the  tomb  was 
thrown  into  the  light.  It 
was  low  and  square  and  very  small; 
and  around  the  walls  were  paintings, 
still  more  or  less  preserved,  whose 
subjects  they  did  not  then  stop  to 
ascertain.  Deane  turned  over  the 
thing,  shrivelled  and  brown  and  leathery, 
which  once  had  lived  and  moved  and 
breathed  even  as  they  themselves.  Said 
Merritt : 

"  It's  a  woman.      From  the   dress  I 
47 


Within  the  Tomb 


should  judge  she  was  of  high  rank  " — 
he  whistled — "  Look  at  the  jewels !  " 

As  the  body  was  turned  face  upward, 
stiff  as  board,  fixed  to  its  crouching 
posture,  the  lamplight  caught  the  flash 
of  many  jewels,  the  glint  of  gold,  the 
dark  fire  of  unknown  gems.  Around  the 
shrunken  neck  was  a  chain  of  heavy  links 
of  gold;  upon  the  shrivelled  arms,  long 
and  bony,  with  claw-like  hands,  were 
broad,  chased  armlets,  set  with  many 
jewels. 

"  It  is  in  a  remarkably  fine  state  of  pres- 
ervation," Merritt  said.  He  thumped 
hollowly  with  one  finger  on  the  sunken 
breast  that  had  once  been  brown,  smooth 
flesh,  softly  firm  and  dimpling  to  the 
touch;  and  held  his  light  to  the  head. 

The  hair  was  still  attached  to  the  skull, 
48 


Within  the  Tomb 


long,  midnight  black,  straight  and  silky 
fine;  but  as  he  touched  it,  it  came  off  in 
his  hand.  The  eyes  were  gone,  the 
sockets  empty;  the  lips,  dry  and  sunken, 
stretched  grinning  back  from  two  rows 
of  perfect  teeth. 

"  What  a  mockery !  "  Merritt  said  sud- 
denly. "  I'd  like  to  know  what  she  was 
doing  here.  That  door  never  got  walled 
up  in  that  style  by  any  chance.  Let's 
take  a  look  around." 

They  looked;  and  on  the  walls  they 
found  their  clue.  The  pictured  story  of 
a  drama  played  out  and  ended  direfully 
two  thousand  years  before,  with  one  of 
the  actors,  decked  out  as  she  had  played 
her  part,  lying  at  their  feet. 

"  I  think  it  begins  over  here,  where  I 
am,"  Holloway  remarked,  from  a  corner 
49 


Within  the  Tomb 


near  the  door.  "  Where  you  are,  they're 
walling  up  an  entrance,  and  that  must  be 
pretty  near  the  end.  This  first  one  here, 
where  I'm  standing." 

They  prowled  around  the  walls,  jos- 
tling one  another  in  the  smallness  of  the 
place,  holding  their  lanterns  close.  Hollo- 
way,  he  of  the  ardent  fancy,  slapped  his 
knee  all  at  once  with  an  exclamation. 

"  I've  got  it !  At  least  it  fits  in  with  all 
the  details  we've  found.  She  must  have 
been  of  royal  blood;  for  in  that  fourth 
picture  she's  with  the  man  with  the  black 
beard,  who  has  the  symbol  of  royalty,  and 
she's  nearly  as  large  as  he.  In  this  first 
scene  she's  making  love  to  this  duck  in  the 
white  skirt,  who  is  very  much  smaller,  to 
show  he's  a  mere  man.  He's  coy,  and  has 
his  hands  before  his  face.  I  suppose  that 
50 


Within  the  Tomb 


means  he  does  not  want  to  come  into  the 
game.  Those  three  other  fellows,  who 
are  lying  on  their  backs  over  here,  must 
have  been  three  chaps  who  did  not  come 
to  any  good  end  by  her.  They  all  have 
their  hands  over  their  faces,  you  see ;  same 
position  as  the  leading  man.  I  guess  she 
was  a  pretty  strenuous  lady,  judging 
from  these  next  two  pictures.  My  word, 
they  are  frank,  aren't  they  ?  In  the  fourth 
picture  the  king  is  reprimanding  her  for 
her  ways,  and  she's  got  her  back  to  him. 
On  this  wall,  she's  evidently  being  tried 
for  her  sins,  and  the  king  is  pronouncing 
sentence.  And  here — hi!  look  at  this — 
they're  walling  her  up  in  this  very  tomb, 
alive.  Here  they're  dragging  her  along 
that  passage  outside,  with  the  tomb  open 
and  ready ;  and  in  this  last  one,  the  king  is 
51 


Within  the  Tomb 


putting  in  a  stone.  There's  the  lamp 
standing  on  the  stone  block,  with  a  slave 
doing  something  to  it."  He  drew  a  long 
breath.  "  Well !  by  George !  But  why 
did  they  shut  her  up  alive?  Why  didn't 
they  poison  her  or  cut  her  head  off,  or 
something  that  way  ?  " 

Here  interruption  came.  Ibraheem, 
his  keen-set  curiosity  overcoming  even  his 
superstitious  awe  of  the  place,  came  be- 
side them  to  where  the  light  fell  full  on 
the  picture  of  the  princess  standing  to 
receive  sentence.  Unexpectedly  he  yelled 
with  surprise  and  alarm,  and  bolted  for 
the  door.  Holloway  caught  him  in  mid- 
flight,  demanding  explanations. 

"  Saars,    come  away.       Nis  place   so 
vurry  wickit.     Nat  lady — what  you  call 
um  Englis'  devul  soul.     See — look." 
52 


Within  the  Tomb 


He  pointed  to  the  painted  figure.  Mer- 
ritt  leaned  forward  to  examine. 

"  This  is  quaint,"  he  said.  "  See  this 
thing  that  looks  like  a  fancy  ornament 
on  her  breast?  It's  no  ornament;  it's  a 
little  devil.  And  it's  in  every  one  of 
her  pictures.  You  can  see  for  your- 
selves." 

"  So  it  is,"  quoth  Holloway,  going 
around  to  investigate.  "  A  little  devil. 
Ain't  it  cute?" 

But  Ibraheem  howled  again. 

"  Nat  um  devul  soul  in  she  lookun  out. 
Nat  why  she  did  got  walled  up.  If  she 
die  so,"  — he  drew  a  hand  across  his 
neck, — "  or  get  um  killed,  devul  he  get  out 
of  she  and  run  away.  Wall  um  up  like 
nis  so  devul,  when  she  die  and  he  got  out, 
mus'  stay  in  here.  Now  you  let  devul 
53 


Within  the  Tomb 


soul  out  by  opening  wall.     Come  away 
queek." 

Holloway  laughed. 

"  Good  eye,  Ibraheem !  We  never 
thought  we  had  such  a  glowing  imagina- 
tion in  our  midst.  But  I  think  myself 
we'd  all  better  clear  out.  This  air  isn't 
any  too  sweet.  And  Deane's  getting 
green  around  the  gills  some  more." 

From  the  workmen  in  the  passage  came 
a  shout,  and  Ibraheem  dived  for  the 
entrance. 

"  Say  um  roof  come  down ! "  he 
shouted  as  he  fled.  "  Block  up  door. 
Come,  saars ! " 

"Only  some  of  the  rubbish  falling  from 
above,"  Merritt  said;  but  Holloway, 
already  in  retreat,  called  over  his 
shoulder : 

54 


Within  the  Tomb 


"You'd  better  hustle,  you  two! 
There's  an  avalanche  coming  down  from 
somewhere." 

He  skipped  over  the  threshold  of  the 
narrow  door.  Merritt,  also  bestirring 
himself,  had  got  one  leg  over  when  there 
was  a  slide  and  a  rattle;  Holloway,  Ibra- 
heem,  and  the  two  workmen  in  the  pas- 
sage yelled  in  chorus,  and  Merritt  jumped 
for  safety.  Then  his  place  in  the  door- 
way was  filled  with  a  mass  of  loose  earth 
and  rough-hewn  stones,  entirely  choking 
the  entrance,  and  prisoning  Deane  on  the 
wrong  side. 

They  yelled  again,  encouragingly,  to 
tell  him  that  they  would  get  right  to  work 
and  dig  him  out ;  and  their  voices  came  to 
him  indistinctly,  as  from  a  long  distance. 
Holloway 's  lusty  young  shout,  reaching 
55 


Within  the  Tomb 


him  more  clearly  than  the  others',  in- 
formed him  that  they  would  have  him  out 
in  half  an  hour,  and  he  might  be  philo- 
sophical and  make  love  to  the  Princess  to 
pass  the  time. 

Deane  smiled  at  his  predicament,  hear- 
ing the  fall  of  pick  and  spade;  a  sound 
loud  by  comparison  with  the  silence  of  the 
tomb.  Then  he  became  aware  of  how 
very  silent  it  was.  The  stillness,  which 
for  unnumbered  years  had  not  been 
broken,  seemed  to  grip  the  place  again, 
overwhelming  him,  reclaiming  its  own. 
His  one  small  lamp  burned  bravely,  but 
the  corners  of  the  room  were  merged  in 
shadow;  the  pictures  on  the  walls  loomed 
grotesque  and  indistinct.  And  then 
Deane's  eyes  fell  upon  the  huddled 
mummy  on  the  floor,  and  his  imagination 
56 


Within  the  Tomb 


leaped  back  to  what  that  last  strange  scene 
must  have  been.  He  thought  of  her, 
young  perhaps,  beautiful  of  course,  thrust 
in  there  to  perish  by  slow  degrees,  in  the 
childish  belief  that  the  beautiful,  evil  soul 
of  her,  penned  within  the  narrow  walls, 
might  never  escape  to  wreak  further 
havoc  among  the  sons  of  men. 

For  some  time  he  amused  himself  with 
such  fancies,  sitting  on  the  floor,  his  hands 
clasped  about  his  knees,  his  eyes  on  the 
jewelled  mockery  in  the  corner.  Quite 
suddenly  he  became  conscious  of  the  heat 
and  closeness  of  the  place,  and  felt  that  a 
light  sweat  broke  out  on  brow  and  hands ; 
became  conscious  also  of  a  certain  misti- 
ness in  the  tomb,  in  which  the  flame  of  his 
lamp  glimmered  wanly. 

"  I  wish  those  fellows  would  hurry ! " 
57 


Within  the  Tomb 


he  muttered  resentfully.  He  lifted  his 
head  abruptly,  a  new  expression  upon  his 
face,  his  eyes  agleam  with  an  eager  per- 
plexity. "  What  in  thunder  is  it  ?  I 
thought  I  got  a  whiff  of  perfume — jas- 
mine, by  Jove !  "  Presently  he  shook  his 
head.  "  Too  elusive.  Another  freak  of 
the  sun ;  none  of  the  fellows  use  scent  and 

stuff — and  as  for  the  natives "  He 

broke  off  to  chuckle.  "Anyhow  this 
place  is  getting  confoundedly  close."  In 
the  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  tomb  he 
realised  that  his  head  was  swimming 
curiously;  his  brain  was  dizzy,  his  hands 
grew  cold.  With  a  new  inspiration,  he 
said: 

"  Now,  by  Jove !  I  wonder  if  Ibraheem 
got  hold  of  the  right  bottle?  " 

He  became  quite  convinced  that  he  had 
58 


Within  the  Tomb 


taken  the  wrong  dose,  and  was  filled  with 
irritation  against  Ibraheem.  He  argued 
peevishly  that  it  must  have  been  the 
wrong  dose,  or  he  would  not  be  feeling  so 
uncommonly  queer.  Again  his  gaze  fell 
on  the  mummy.  This  time  he  stared  at 
it,  his  eyes  fixed  under  frowning  brows, 
his  jaw  dropping  slightly.  The  light  was 
dim,  his  head  swimming.  What  he  saw, 
watching  in  a  fascination  of  interest,  was 
a  slow,  indefinable  change  in  the  thing, 
which  took  place  under  his  eyes,  yet  whose 
stages  he  could  not  follow.  He  saw  the 
dead  face  turn  slowly  towards  him — so 
slowly  that,  try  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
see  it  move — saw  the  sunken  cheeks  grow 
rounded,  covered  no  longer  with  shrivelled 
parchment,  but  with  velvety  brown  skin; 
saw  full  crimson  lips  which  hid  the  twin 
59 


Within  the  Tomb 


rows  of  perfect  teeth;  saw  the  shrunken 
arms  firm  and  gracious;  the  billowy 
curves  and  soft  hollows  of  breast  and 
throat,  the  sudden  brilliancy  of  unknown 
jewels;  and  clutched  his  head  in  his 
hands. 

"  Gad !  I'm  getting  light-headed !  "  he 
muttered.  "  It's  the  sun — of  course  it's 
the  sun — it  can't  be  anything  but  the 
sun!" 

But  he  felt  his  flesh  crawl  to  a  sudden 
nameless  horror  which  fastened  upon  him, 
like  the  horror  of  an  evil  dream  which  one 
knows  to  be  a  dream,  but  from  which  one 
cannot  waken,  when  he  knew  that  the 
vague  sense  of  floating  perfume  was 
stronger,  more  clearly  perceptible;  the 
heavy,  haunting  scent  of  the  jasmine 

flower,  clinging  and  sensuous,  and  bring- 
60 


Within  the  Tomb 


ing  with  it  a  sudden  ache  of  intolerable 
longing  for  the  good  life  he  had  left  be- 
hind. 

"  I  don't  understand ! "  he  muttered. 
And  then,  aimlessly,  and  with  a  vague 
notion  of  having  heard  the  words  before, 
— "  You  see  things,  and  know  them  to 
exist,  and  can't  account  for  them." 

Then  he  found  himself  all  at  once 
crawling  on  hands  and  knees  towards  the 
huddled  figure  that  he  knew  watched  him 
with  living  eyes,  with  the  heavy  fragrance 
of  the  jasmine  luring  him  always  on ;  and 
pulled  himself  up  short  with  sudden  terror 
in  his  face,  believing  quite  seriously  that 
he  was  mad,  and  shivering  to  think  what 
might  have  occurred  if  he  unwittingly 
had  touched  it.  The  light  was  dim  and 

his  eyes  were  full  of  mist,  so  that  he  could 
61 


Within  the  Tomb 


not  see  clearly;  but  he  knew  that  it  was 
lying  very  still,  watching  him  with  a  side- 
long under-glance,  full  of  invitation  and 
temptation,  the  jewels  on  rounded  throat 
and  curving  breast  winking  in  the 
light. 

And  then  all  power  of  will  left  him 
under  the  subtle,  enervating  fragrance 
that  clutched  at  his  brain  and  sent  it  reel- 
ing ;  and  suddenly  it  became  more  than  he 
could  endure.  He  flung  himself  upon  the 
earth  and  stones  which  filled  the  doorway, 
and  tore  at  them,  muttering  rambling 
words  beneath  his  breath,  in  a  blind  fear 
of  something  to  which  he  could  give  no 
name. 

Then  a  shout  of  men's  voices  struck  his 
ears,  close  beside  him;  the  air  of  the-pas- 
sage,  pure  and  cool  as  heaven's  own  after 
62 


Within  the  Tomb 


the  suffocation  of  the  tomb,  flooded  him 
like  a  dash  of  cold  water,  infinitely  grate- 
ful. He  straightened  himself,  smiling 
vacantly,  as  Merritt  and  Holloway  came 
towards  him,  and  dropped  in  a  heap  just 
inside  the  threshold. 

They  carried  him  away  with  profane 
expressions  of  sympathy,  and  he  raved 
half-consciously  of  dead  things  that 
watched  him  with  living  eyes ;  of  flowers 
whose  essence  could  drag  a  man's  soul  to 
the  torments  of  the  damned;  and  of  the 
pain  in  his  head,  and  of  the  sun,  and  blue 
bottles.  And  at  the  word,  Ibraheem, 
quaking  with  fear,  was  fain  to  confess 
that  in  the  medicine  chest  he  could  find  no 
blue  bottle  and  had  brought  instead  a  cup 
of  plain  water — "  by  Lord-God,  saars, 
vurry  plain !  " — knowing  the  penalty  of 
63 


Within  the  Tomb 


experimenting  with  drugs  whose  potency 
he  did  not  understand. 

And  the  tomb  was  left  open  to  the  clean 
night-winds,  with  Deane's  forgotten  lamp 
still  burning  on  the  floor,  and  casting  its 
glimmer  of  light  on  the  sunken  face  and 
the  withered  arms  of  the  Princess  with  the 
mocking  jewels  who  lay  within. 


64 


CHAPTER  IV 
TWloman  ZTcmpteD  dfce" 


|  HE  camps  settled  down  for 
the  night,  with  occasional 
gusts  of  conversation 
from  the  men's  quarters, 
— an  altercation  over  a  kettle  of  stew 
or  a  game  of  dice.  Holloway  strolled 
up  to  where  Deane  and  Merritt  sat 
smoking,  after  supper,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  a  cigarette  between  his  teeth. 
Deane  had  a  wet  cloth  bound  around  his 
head,  and  looked  dissipated.  Merritt  was 
placid  and  thoughtful,  resting  contentedly 
in  the  memory  of  a  good  day's  work 
behind  him.  This  is  greatly  conducive  to 
65 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

bodily  and  mental  comfort  at  nightfall 
when  the  springs  run  down. 

Holloway  said  casually: 

"  Which  case  have  you  packed  the 
mummy  in  for  shipment  ?  " 

"  Haven't  packed  it  at  all  yet,"  Merritt 
answered,  tapping  the  bowl  of  his  pipe 
against  his  boot.  "  There  was  no  time 
to-day,  between  Deane's  doings  and  the 
rest  of  it.  It  will  be  safe  enough  in  the 
tomb  until  the  morning.  These  Affejs 
would  not  touch  it  for  unlimited  back- 
sheesh — and  anyhow  Ibraheem  is  on 
guard  to  see  that  they  don't  go  monkeying 
around." 

"  Not  packed  it  ?  "  Holloway  repeated. 
His  voice  held  a  faint  inflection  of  sur- 
prise. "  Well,  it's  not  in  the  tomb.  It's 

gone." 

66 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

Merritt  straightened  up  and  looked  at 
him. 

"  How's  that?  "  he  demanded. 

Said  Holloway   patiently: 

"  I  thought  you  must  have  packed  it, 
because  it  is  not  in  the  tomb.  I  was  there 
not  fifteen  minutes  ago.  And  Ibraheem 
was  not  there.  He  was  eating  his  supper 
with — what's  his  name — Hafiz,  the  cooky. 
I'll  bet  those  beggars  have  swiped  it  to 
loot  the  jewels." 

Deane  and  Merritt  answered  nothing. 
Simultaneously  they  rose  and  made  for 
the  trenches.  Holloway  went  after  them 
leisurely,  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  Half- 
way down  he  met  the  two  returning. 
Both  were  ejaculating  profanely. 

"Well?"  said  Holloway.  "Was  I 
right  ?  Now  there'll  be  the  devil  to  pay." 
67 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

"Right?  Yes!"  Merritt  snorted. 
He  gained  the  level,  shouting  for  Ibra- 
heem.  The  three  seated  themselves  in 
solemn  tribunal,  out  of  earshot  of  the 
camp.  Ibraheem  came,  serenely  innocent. 
Merritt  questioned,  in  the  vernacular. 

"  You  stood  watch,  Ibraheem,  after  we 
left  the  tomb  ?  "  His  tones  were  honey- 
sweet. 

"  Ow  yaas,  saar."  Ibraheem's  voice 
was  bland.  Also  he  persisted  in  his 
English. 

"For  how  long?" 

"  Ontil  ne  supper.  My  bellee  he  cry  for 
goat-stew  and  cakes.  Saars,  he  roar.  So 
I  went.  Say  I  to  me,  eat  a  leetle  bite  and 
come  back  queek.  Be  not  gone  not  long. 
I  go;  I  am  back  queek.  Not  er  minnut 

am  I  gone." 

68 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

Merritt  turned  to  Holloway. 

"  Was  he  there  when  you  first  went  to 
the  tomb?" 

"  No,  sir ! "  Holloway  answered 
promptly. 

"  How  long  were  you  there?  " 

"  About  an  hour,  as  nearly  as  I  can 
judge." 

"  Had  he  returned  when  you  left  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

Merritt's  grey  eyes  transfixed  Ibra- 
heem,  who  quailed. 

"  While  you  were  away  from  your  post, 
in  direct  disobedience  of  orders,  that 
mummy  was  stolen.  Now  it's  up  to  you 
to  find  it.  Do  you  understand,  or  shall  I 
say  it  again  in  your  lingo?"  He  re- 
peated his  words  in  the  vernacular.  "  It 
shall  be  your  business  to  find  it.  You 
69 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

shall  question  the  men,  examine  the 
ground  to  see  if  it  has  been  buried,  look 
through  all  the  camp.  Until  it  is  found, 
your  wages  are  cut  off.  Also  you  get 
no  backsheesh,  and  no  gift  when  we 
return." 

Ibraheem,  prepared  for  anything  save 
a  loss  of  gold,  became  pitiable.  His  grief 
was  childish;  he  wept,  he  implored  for- 
giveness. 

"  I  will  find  it,  saar,  mos'  vurry  damn 
queek.  It  is  the  men  did  got  it,  and 
from  them  I  take  it  fierce.  But  give  me 
gifts,  or  I  die  me  dead  of  hongry.  I  am 
mos'  poor  men,  vurry  poor — I  respectfully 
need  gifts,  saars! " 

"  Oh,  stop  your  drooling  and  get  to 
work!  "  Merritt  growled,  and  turned  his 

back  on  him.     Ibraheem  crept  away,  to 
70 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

fasten  guilt,  collectively  and  individually, 
upon  every  member  of  every  gang.  His 
progress  through  the  camp  was  marked 
by  a  storm  of  wrathful  protestations  of 
innocence,  of  appeals  to  high  Heaven  for 
damaged  reputations,  of  furious  denials  of 
complicity. 

Merritt  laughed  shortly  and  lay  down 
on  his  back. 

"  Don't  you  think  all  this  rumpus  might 
— er — frighten  the  thief  into. making  off 
with  the  property  ? "  Holloway  wished 
to  know. 

"  He  couldn't  make  off  very  far," 
Merritt  retorted  grimly,  and  waved  a 
hand  at  the  surrounding  desert.  "  If  he 
tried  it,  we'd  miss  him  from  among  the 
men,  and  be  on  him  quicker  than  jump- 
ing. But  it  may  scare  him  into  quietly 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

returning  it,  when  he  finds  the  secret  is 
out." 

But  the  next  day  the  mummy  of  the 
Princess  had  not  been  returned,  nor  the 
next.  Always  the  work  went  on,  dili- 
gently, with  varying  success.  More 
trenches  were  run  deeper  into  the  mound. 
Basketfuls  of  tablets  were  found,  made  of 
finest  clay,  many  in  a  state  of  perfect 
preservation;  also  terra-cotta  vases,  in- 
struments in  copper,  some  corroded  out  of 
all  shape;  an  altar  to  a  god  whose  name 
had  been  erased,  bearing  marks  of  sacri- 
fices. The  courtyard  of  the  palace  was 
dug  out,  a  wide  and  open  space,  with  frag- 
ments of  brick  pavement  and  the  rem- 
nants of  its  surrounding  rooms.  Of  these 
architectural  details  Deane  drew  care- 
ful plans,  noting  their  dimensions,  the 
72 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

average  height  and  thickness  of  their 
fragmentary  walls,  their  drainage  and 
ventilation.  Squeezes  were  taken  of  in- 
scriptions which  could  not  be  removed; 
the  ground  was  carefully  surveyed,  the 
buildings  photographed  and  described, 
preparatory  to  carrying  the  excavations  to 
a  lower  level,  where  Merritt  believed 
relics  of  a  greater  antiquity  could  be 
found.  Again,  other  days  were  barren, 
and  it  was  then  that  Merritt  became  sore 
over  the  loss  of  the  Princess.  When 
things  went  right  he  forgot  her,  in  joy 
over  some  fresh  acquisition;  when  things 
went  wrong,  he  reverted  to  her,  and 
mourned  for  her  inconsolably. 

"  I  was  going  to  give  the  thing  to  the 
National   Museum   in  Washington/'   he 
lamented   bitterly.     "And  now,  through 
73 


The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 


the  infernal  greed  of  a  fool  of  an  Affej, 
it's  lost.  What's  going  without  your  din- 
ner a  time  or  two,  when  a  thing  like  that 
is  in  the  balance  ?  " 

But  the  fool  of  an  Affej  still  held  the 
centre  of  the  stage,  and  was  minded  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  Deane  caught  him 
one  evening,  purloining  wax  wherewith 
to  plug  up  a  gruesome  gash,  after  the 
manner  of  desert  surgery,  and  bound  up 
the  wound  himself  in  proper  style.  So 
that  Ibraheem,  feeling  himself  sadly  ill- 
used  and  outcast  since  the  day  of  his  dis- 
grace, became  grateful,  and — always  in 
his  painful  English — informed  him  that 
the  night  before  a  workman  had  disap- 
peared, not  returning  with  his  gang  at 
sunset,  and  that  the  man  who  had  seen 
him  last  was  in  the  camp,  very  sick. 
74 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

All  this  Deane  dutifully  reported  to 
Merritt,  and  Merritt  grunted  sleepily  and 
said: 

"  The  fellow's  gone  to  sleep  behind  one 
of  the  mounds.  He'll  turn  up  in  time  for 
breakfast,  never  fear." 

But  he  did  not  turn  up  in  time  for 
breakfast,  and  the  sick  man  was  sicker, 
and  wished  to  die.  Asked  by  curious 
comrades  as  to  the  cause  of  his  distress, 
he  replied  that  he  would  not  tell,  and  did 
not  wish  to  talk ;  so  that  he  received  scant 
sympathy,  and  his  attendants  dwindled. 
It  was  upon  this  night  that  Deane 
dreamed  of  being  again  a  prisoner  in  the 
tomb,  with  the  living  eyes  in  the  dead  face 
watching  him  as  he  fought  his  way  to  air 
and  life.  Only  this  time  the  face  seemed 
not  all  dead;  the  skin  was  brown  and 
75 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

drawn  tight  across  the  bones,  but  in  the 
face  there  was  expression;  lust  and 
cruelty,  and  a  triumph  which  was  of  evil. 
He  woke  bathed  in  sweat,  with  a  feeling 
of  suffocation  such  as  had  choked  him  on 
that  unforgotten  day  in  the  airless  tomb. 
For  the  first  time  he  was  struck  with  a 
sense  of  impending  evil ;  though,  when  he 
woke  again,  this  had  vanished  wholly  in 
the  brave  morning  light. 

It  was  within  a  day  of  this  that  a  cer- 
tain uneasiness  made  itself  manifest 
among  the  men.  In  the  evening  a  depu- 
tation visited  Merritt,  and  set  forth  their 
troubles  at  great  length.  They  made 
Ibraheem  their  spokesman;  he  revelled  in 
the  chance  of  exploiting  his  English,  and 
made  the  most  of  it. 

"  Saar  Merritt  will  not  forget  nat  it  is 
76 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

accursed  citee,  accursed  by  Lord-God  in 
vurry  long  time  ago.  Nere  may  be  bad 
affairs,  vurry  bad,  which  we  shall  see. 
It  is  not  good  to  unbury  what  is  bad. 
Nare  is  a  altar  of  so  most  wickit  Lord- 
God  which  men  says  shine  all  night. 
Spucks  are  here — all,  all  around.  We 
did  got  vurry  great  lot  spucks  in  nis  land. 
The  mens  don't  not  like  him.  Hafiz,  he 
cook,  see  a  ting,  las'  night.  Make  um 
vurry  seek." 

He  pulled  forth  Hafiz  by  the  tail  of  his 
short  and  dirty  cotton  garment.  Hafiz 
was  unwilling,  but  seeing  himself  sur- 
rounded, hearing  himself  bidden  to  speak, 
spread  out  his  hands  and  said  rapidly : 

"  It  is  a  thing,  oh,  my  masters,  which 
comes  from  the  mounds  at  night-time, 
swaying  as  the  corn  sways  in  summer, 
77 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

very  light,  beckoning  men  to  follow. 
Tarfa,  he  who  went  and  came  not  back, 
saw  and  said  it  is  the  god  of  that  altar  we 
have  profaned.  The  desert  has  swal- 
lowed him;  for  it  is  three  days  since  he 
hath  gone."  Then  he  called  Allah  to  wit- 
ness— for  he  was  a  good  Mohammedan — 
that  he  intended  no  meddling  with  unseen 
things,  that  he  was  forced  to  obey  orders, 
and  that  he  was  a  flower  in  Allah's  hands. 

"  I  don't  understand  what's  got  into  the 
brutes,"  Holloway  said  fretfully. 

"  They're  just  a  bit  nervous,"  Merritt 
assured  him.  "  It  seems  as  though  this 
place  always  had  a  bad  name,  from  the 
earliest  times.  The  men  are  superstitious, 
and  they  don't  know  exactly  what  they're 
up  against.  7  think  Tarfa  is  responsible 
for  the  mummy,  and  invented  the  tale  of 
78 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

the  shining  altar  before  he  left,  to  throw 
us  off  the  track.  Yes,  he's  undoubtedly 
the  thief.  But  he  wouldn't  be  such  a  fool 
as  to  cross  northward  without  water  or 
provisions — and  cooky  says  he  took  noth- 
ing from  the  stores — and  the  only  other 
practicable  route  would  be  southward. 
So  when  we  go  back  that  way,  we'll  find 
him — or  what's  left  of  him — and  it." 

"  But  the  Rocks  ?  Suppose  he  makes 
for  them  ?  "  Deane  suggested. 

At  this  idea,  however,  Merritt  scoffed. 

"  Why  should  he  go  there  ?  His  main 
wish,  I  take  it,  would  be  to  get  into  the 
track  of  caravans,  where  he  might  find 
help.  He'd  throw  the  mummy  away  in 
the  desert,  and  hide  the  jewels  in  his  shirt. 
Among  the  Rocks,  he  might  as  well  go 
north  and  be  done  with  it.  No  caravans 
79 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

pass  within  fifty  miles  of  the  place,  and 
then  rarely;  and  fifty  miles  is  no  joke  to 
an  exhausted  man  without  food  or  water. 
Oh,  we'll  get  the  Princess  back  yet !  " 

The  next  day  came  a  flurry  of  disturb- 
ance. A  digger  came  to  Merritt  and  told 
him,  quite  hysterically,  that  he,  Moussa, 
had  seen  a  man  slipping  away  among  the 
mounds,  following  a  thing  which  went 
always  on  ahead ;  and  the  man  was  Hafiz, 
the  cook,  who  had  been  with  Tarfa  and 
had  later  wished  to  die.  And  Moussa, 
shuddering,  told  what  the  thing  was,  as 
he  had  seen  it. 

"  Master,  it  was  near  to  dark,  and  I  and 
Hafiz  took  food  and  went  to  the  shade  of 
that  mound  and  ate."  He  waved  his 
hand  at  a  hill  of  upturned  earth  and 
rubbish  at  a  distance  upon  the  left. 
80 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

"  And  just  as  the  sun  sank,  in  that 
moment  before  night  fell,  there  came  a 
breath  of  air  from  the  gardens  of  the 
blessed  souls  in  Paradise,  slow  and  soft 
as  the  whisper  of  women's  voices,  and  It 
came,  slowly,  around  the  mound,  and 
looked  upon  Hafiz,  and  beckoned.  And 
the  desert  was  no  longer  a  desert,  but  as 
a  garden  filled  with  the  scent  of  roses  and 
the  song  of  bulbuls.  And  it  was  a 
woman,  master,  as  Allah  lives,  a  woman, 
here  in  this  place,  where  a  woman  had  not 
been  before,  and  her  eyes  were  dark  and 
her  mouth  red.  She  stood  swaying  just 
in  the  shadow  of  the  earth,  and  beckoned; 
and  I  cried  out  in  fear,  but  Hafiz  would 
follow.  And  when  I  would  have  held 
him  back,  he  cursed  me,  and  went,  follow- 
ing that  woman  who  laughed  and 
81 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

beckoned,  for  the  sweetness  of  her  was  in 
his  nostrils,  and  her  will  was  to  be  obeyed. 
And  when  I,  fearing  greatly,  went  around 
also,  I  could  not  see  them,  for  the  dark- 
ness of  night  had  come.  Eh,  masters,  but 
she  was  beautiful,  and  very  evil,  and  her 
jewels  were  such  as  none  had  ever  seen 
before  upon  the  earth." 

Merritt  turned  sharply  upon  Ibraheem, 
who  stood  behind  him. 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  liquor  was 
not  to  be  brought  along  for  the  men  ?  By 
Jove!  we'll  have  them  seeing  sacred  py- 
thons and  jumping  lizards  next !  " 

"  Not  got  um  liquor,  saar,"  Ibraheem 
interrupted.  "  Not  um  drop  er  whiskey 
in  er  camp.  Sun  touch  um  here."  He 
tapped  his  forehead  significantly.  Mer- 
ritt grunted  in  unbelieving  disgust. 
82 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

That  night  the  three  sat  late,  unwont- 
edly  silent,  watching  the  desert  night  and 
the  pulsing  stars.  Holloway  was  the  first 
to  break  a  pause  of  many  minutes. 

"  These  men  aren't  children,  to  be 
scared  of  shadows.  I  think  this  thing 
ought  to  be  sifted.  And  when  you  come 
to  think  of  their  point  of  view,  this  is  a 
pretty  weird  sort  of  a  place.  There's 
a-plenty  to  cook  up  a  rattling  good  ghost 
story  out  of ;  this  old  cursed  city,  the  altars 
to  unknown  gods  where  human  sacrifices 
were  offered ;  that  mummy  Princess,  with 
her  '  devil-soul '  and  her  jewels  and  her 
story  painted  on  the  walls  of  her  own 
tomb;  and  now  the  disappearance  of  our 
men,  one  by  one.  Well,  I'm  glad  you  two 
fellows  are  here,  anyhow.  If  I  were 
alone,  by  George,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
83 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me'' 

I'd  get  to  believing  in  Ibraheem's  spucks 
myself.  I'd  end  by  cutting  loose  and  run- 
ning away." 

Deane  smiled  at  the  boy  through  a 
cloud  of  tobacco  smoke;  and  Merritt  said, 
with  a  dry  affection  which  only  Hollo- 
way,  with  his  spirits,  his  light-hearted- 
ness,  and  the  unexpected  contradiction 
of  an  imagination  more  torrid  even  than 
Merritt's  own,  could  wring  from  him : 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  have  seen  you  run  like  that 
before,  you  young  dare-devil.  They'll 
forget  about  all  this  in  a  couple  of  days. 
They  merely  think  it's  their  duty  not  to 
let  one  trip  go  by  without  stirring  up 
something  sensational." 

Holloway  sighed  portentously. 

"  Well,  you  can  search  me ! "  he  said 
with  frankness.  "  I  give  it  up.  This 
84 


"The  Woman  Tempted  Me" 

country  gets  beyond  the  depth  of  my  phi- 
losophy. Upon  my  soul,  if  I  stay  here 
much  longer,  I'll  be  ready  to  believe  any- 
thing you  tell  me  of  it." 


CHAPTER  V 


{Touch  of  the  Sun 

DAY  later  Ibraheem  re- 
ported that  Moussa  had 
taken  himself  off.  Ibra- 

heem    was    nervous,    and 

showed  it.  The  men  were  getting  rest- 
less, he  averred;  he  himself  would  be 
glad  when  the  work  in  that  place  was 
finished.  It  was  an  unholy  spot.  Fur- 
thermore, he  declared  that  he  had  seen 
Moussa  the  night  before,  and  Moussa 
had  behaved  peculiarly,  had  talked  of  rose 
gardens  and  strange  perfumes  to  which 
no  man  could  give  a  name,  and  had  said 
that  if  he  saw  the  Woman  again  he  was 
87 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


determined  to  follow  her.  Wherefore 
Moussa  was  undoubtedly  mad,  Ibraheem 
said  with  great  solemnity,  for  Lord-God 
knew  there  were  no  women  around  that 
camp,  neither  was  there  any  perfume  save 
the  reek  of  the  cattle-pen.  Oh,  yes — 
Moussa  was  mad,  most  mad,  there  was  no 
doubt  whatever  about  that.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  Merritt  ordered  a  search 
made  for  concealed  liquor,  and  found 
none.  The  men  watched  the  proceedings 
in  silence.  That  night  there  was  no  sing- 
ing; men  gathered  close  and  slept  in 
bunches  of  three  and  four. 

Some  hours  later,  Deane,  on  his  way 
to  his  tent,  stumbled  over  Holloway, 
who  sprawled  upon  the  ground,  chin 
on  hands. 

"  Look  out !  "  Holloway  said  mildly, 
88 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


not  offering  to  move.  "  I  say,  look  at  that 
moonrise." 

His  voice  had  lost  some  of  its  enthusi- 
asm, and  sounded  tired.  Deane,  consider- 
ing that  the  boy  was  homesick  and  per- 
haps needed  bracing  up,  accepted  the  im- 
plied invitation,  and  sat  down.  The 
moon,  climbing  over  the  great  Mound  of 
the  City,  was  turning  the  sky  to  intense 
blue-black;  the  earth  to  a  slumbering  sea 
of  hoary  light,  wrapped  in  infinite  loneli- 
ness and  peace. 

"  It's  bully,"  Deane  assented  unheed- 
ingly.  Quickly  it  became  plain  to  him 
that  moonrises,  usually  conducive  to 
poetic  enthusiasms  on  Holloway's  part, 
to-night  held  no  attraction  for  him.  He, 
generally  brimming  over  with  life  and 
spirits,  was  suddenly  distrait  and  listless. 
89 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


Deane  was  wondering  if  by  any  chance 
the  boy  had  exposed  himself  to  the  sun, 
when  Holloway  spoke,  with  a  certain  hes- 
itancy and  constraint  which  had  the  effect 
of  making  him  appear  all  at  once  more 
than  ever  boyish. 

"  Deane,  do  you  know  I've  been  won- 
dering if  there  could  be  anything  in  those 
fellows'  stories,  after  all?  I  don't  mean 
any  of  that  rot  about  a  woman,  but  .  .  . 
I  saw  something  myself  to-night." 

"  Where  ?  "  Deane  asked  with  equal  se- 
riousness. The  darkness  hid  a  smile  of 
amused  tolerance  on  his  face. 

"  Down  among  the  tombs."  Hollo- 
way's  voice  was  solemn. 

"  Perhaps  a  goat  got  loose,"  Deane 
suggested  hopefully. 

"  Oh,  you  can  laugh  if  you  like!  "  Hol- 
90 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


loway  said  with  unexpected  emphasis. 
"Of  course,  you'll  say  next  it  was  one  of 
the  men.  It  might  have  been,  but  I'll  take 
my  oath  it  wasn't.  Why  should  they  be 
sneaking  'round  there  at  that  hour,  when 
they  wouldn't  go  near  the  place  after  dark 
to  save  their  immortal  souls  ?  " 

"  Why  were  you  there  ? "  Deane 
queried. 

At  Holloway's  reply,  low,  and  with  an 
odd  note  of  breathlessness  in  it,  he 
straightened  up  in  the  darkness,  trying  to 
see  the  other's  face. 

"  I  don't  know.  I'm — I'm  all  sorts  of 
a  fool,  but — I  can't  keep  away  from  the 
place  somehow.  I  tell  you,  Deane,  I've 
been  there  every  night  for  the  last 
four  nights,  and  I'm  afraid  as  death 
of  it." 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


"  Then,  in  Heaven's  name,  why  do  you 
go  ?  "  Deane  asked  amazedly. 

"I  tell  you  I  can't  help  it!"  Hollo- 
way  answered  with  quick  impatience. 
"  Before  I  know  it,  I'm  there.  I  say, 
Deane,  when  people  have  a  touch  of  the 
sun,  does  it  make  'em  see  things  that — 
well,  that  aren't  there,  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Deane  said  slowly, 
and  stopped,  remembering  a  picture,  al- 
ways with  him,  of  a  dim-lit  tomb,  of  a 
jewelled  thing  with  flaming  eyes  that 
crouched  upon  the  floor,  of  himself,  half 
senseless,  dizzy  with  the  dreaded  sun- 
sickness,  digging  with  naked  hands  at  the 
fallen  earth  in  an  agony  of  idiotic  fear. 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  he  said  decidedly. 

Holloway  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"Thank  Heaven  for  that!     If  I  hadn't 
92 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


that  excuse  I'd  think  I'd  got  'em,  sure 
enough.  .  .  .  What  a  jolly  night  this 
is!  like  some  of  the  nights  we  have  at 
Home,  in  late  spring."  He  stretched  his 
muscular  length  comfortably,  in  relaxed 
content,  staring  upward  at  the  poising 
moon.  Deane,  seeing  that  he  was  talking 
off,  in  his  own  way,  the  vague  unrest 
which  had  held  him,  gave  him  his  head, 
paying  not  much  attention  to  his  idle 
words.  "  There's  a  hill  behind  the  old 
house,"  the  boyish  voice  went  on.  "  The 
moon  comes  up  behind  it  just  as  it  comes 
up  behind  the  Mound  of  the  City  every 
night.  And  there's  a  big  old  apple-tree 
there,  and  right  below  is  the  garden  where 
the  violets  grow.  I've  been  smelling  those 
violets  all  day — seems  as  though  I  could 
look  down  any  minute  and  expect  to  see 
93 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


them  growing  in  the  warmth  and  damp- 
ness. Funny  thing  how  a  fellow  can  al- 
most make  himself  believe  he's  smelling 
flowers  when  there  aren't  any  flowers  in  a 
thousand  miles,  and  how  the  mere  re- 
membrance of  the  perfume  will  bring 
things  back  to  him  that  he'd  forgotten 
long  ago.  I  don't  know  how  I  got  to 
imagining  all  that,  but  it  had  quite  a  curi- 
ous effect  on  me ;  made  me  want  that  little 
old  bull-pup  of  mine  as  I  never  thought 
I'd  want  anything  again  in  this  weary 
world.  I'd  give  half  I've  got  to  have  him 
here  now,  with  his  head  on  my  knee ;  and 
I  don't  quite  know  why,  because  violets 
haven't  much  to  do  with  bull-terriers." 

Deane  came  out  of  his  reverie,  con- 
scious only  of  the  fact  that  Holloway  was 
still  speaking. 

94 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


"  What's  that?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  was  just  talking  about  Keno,  my 
dog,"  said  Holloway  plaintively.  "  This 
moon  made  me  think  of  the  old  garden 
back  home,  and  the  violets  growing  there 
— I  swear  I  can  almost  smell  'em  now — 
and  one  thing  and  another  made  me  think 
of  that  pup  of  mine.  He's  about  the  only 
one  I've  got  to  think  of  now.  Go  to  sleep 
again — don't  mind  me.  I  wonder  if  it's 
one  of  the  phases  of  this  beastly  sun- 
sickness.  If  it  is,  I've  got  a  touch, 
sure." 

"  Is  what  one  of  the  phases  ?  "  Deane 
queried  sleepily,  as  Holloway  paused,  ex- 
pectant of  an  answer. 

"  The  —  er  —  smelling  perfumes  that 
aren't  there  and  that  sort  of  thing — why, 
what's  the  matter  ?  " 
95 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


Deane  sat  up  and  laid  a  hand 
on  Holloway's  arm  and  shook  him 
gently. 

"  Have  you  been  doing  that,  too  ?  "  he 
demanded.  "  See  here,  Bob,  have  you 
been  doing  that,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have,  in  a  sort  of  a  way,"  Hol- 
loway  admitted.  "  I  didn't  know  there 
was  anything  to  jar  you  in  that.  It's  part 
of  the  regular  programme,  isn't  it? — 
headache,  pain  in  the  back  of  the  neck, 
red-hot  iron  band  across  the  eyes,  smell- 
ing things  and  seeing  things  of  various 
sorts.  Is  it  a — a  symptom?  It  must  be 
— what  else  in  thunder  could  it  be?  I 
don't  know  that  I  mind  it  so  much;  it 
isn't  unpleasant,  in  a  way,  but — oh,  I 
don't  know!  It  made  me  so  damnably 

homesick " 

96 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


He  stopped  on  the  word  and  moved  un- 
easily in  the  darkness. 

"  I'm  talking  rot,"  he  said  firmly. 
"  Guess  that's  a  symptom,  too.  Well,  I 
believe  I'll  turn  in." 

He  eyed  his  own  tent,  standing  farthest 
off,  white  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Better  take  yourself  in  hand  and  get 
rid  of  these  attacks,"  Deane  advised  him 
kindly.  "  The  sun  is  not  a  thing  to  be 
treated  lightly  in  these  parts,  you  know." 

As  Holloway  moved  away,  slowly,  he 
watched  him  with  narrowed  eyes.  Then 
he  went  into  his  own  tent  and  lighted 
his  lamp.  With  his  leather  trunk  for 
desk,  he  wrote  up  his  notes,  and  arranged 
his  journal  and  books  of  entry ;  while  out- 
side the  night  deepened  and  all  the  camp 
slumbered 

97 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


Later  he  put  away  his  papers,  and  pre- 
pared for  bed.  As  he  stretched  out  a  hand 
to  extinguish  the  lamp,  he  stopped  sud- 
denly, head  bent,  listening  intently.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  wall,  close  against 
the  canvas,  was  a  small  sound  as  of  a 
heavy  body  which  had  brushed  against  it 
in  rolling  over.  Deane  removed  his  boots, 
and  went  noiselessly  to  the  door.  He 
peered  through  the  flap  into  the  moon- 
light; abruptly  drew  back  with  a  quick 
intake  of  breath. 

"Good  Lord!"  he  muttered.  "That 
boy!  .  .  .  Camping  down  here  in  one 
blanket  instead  of  sleeping  decently  in  his 
tent.  ...  Is  the  youngster  crazy  ?  " 

An  instant  he  thought  rapidly.  He 
drew  on  his  boots,  bestirred  himself 
briskly  a  moment,  making  much  noise; 
98 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


and  listened  again — then  called  out  in 
natural  tones : 

"  Hello,  Holloway !  Not  turned  in  yet  ? 
Come  in." 

And  grinned  as  he  heard  a  confused 
movement  of  surprise  on  the  other  side  of 
the  tent-wall,  then  a  step. 

"  Come  on  in,"  he  invited  heartily. 
"  Flap's  loose  " ;  and  bent  over  his  journal 
assiduously. 

Holloway  entered,  and  Deane  faced 
around,  levelling  a  keen  glance  at  him. 

"  Sure  I  won't  disturb  you  ?  "  Hollo- 
way  asked;  and  at  the  tone  of  his  voice 
Deane's  glance  became  keener. 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  answered.    "  Fact  is, 

I'm  glad  you  came.     I  heard — er — your 

step  passing,  and  thought  I'd  get  you  to 

come  in.     Do  you  happen  to  remember 

99 


which  case  the  squeeze  of  the  Library  in- 
scription was  packed  in  ?  " 

"I— don't  believe  I  do,"  said  Hollo- 
way.  He  dropped  down  on  a  camp-stool. 
"  Deane,  can't  you  give  me  something  to 
make  me  sleep?  I'm — I'm  no  good  at  all 
to-night.  It's  the  sun — of  course  it's  the 
sun." 

Deane  looked  at  him,  frowning  a  little 
with  perplexity.  He  sat  tensely,  gripping 
the  edge  of  the  camp-stool  with  both 
hands.  His  face  was  pale,  his  fair  hair 
wildly  rumpled.  His  jaws  were  set,  but 
from  time  to  time  the  corners  of  his 
mouth  twitched.  On  one  shoulder  was  a 
long  smear  of  earth.  All  at  once  he 
turned  restive  under  Deane's  eyes. 

"  Oh,  cut  it  off !  "  he  cried  querulously. 

"  It's  nothing  but  the  sun,  I  tell  you.    If  I 
100 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


could  get  one  night's  sleep  I'd  be  all 
right." 

"  I'll  give  you  a  dose,"  Deane  said,  and 
went  to  the  medicine  chest  by  the  head  of 
his  bed.  Over  his  shoulder  he  added, 
watching  keenly  the  effect  of  his  words — 
"  Only  you'll  have  to  camp  down  here 
with  me  till  morning.  So  that  I  can  watch 
its  effect,  you  understand." 

The  change  in  the  boy's  face  was  swift 
and  sharp,  but  Deane  caught  it;  a  look 
of  utter  relief,  a  certain  quick  relaxing  of 
the  tension.  Holloway  said  with  eager- 
ness: 

"  Can  I  ?  "  and  caught  himself  up  to 
add :  "  Oh,  but  I'm  afraid  it  '11  be  beastly 
inconvenient  for  you." 

"  Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  Deane  re- 
turned, and  went  on  with  his  prepara- 
101 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


tions.  From  their  net  he  took  half  a 
dozen  limes,  and  into  a  tin  cup  poured  cool 
water  from  the  porous  water- jar  which 
hung  at  the  tent  door.  He  squeezed  the 
lime-juice  into  this,  added  a  scant  allow- 
ance of  sugar  and  a  dash  from  a  blue 
bottle,  and  shook  the  whole  up  in  a  mix- 
ing-glass. 

"That  wouldn't  hurt  an  infant,"  he 
said  with  satisfaction.  "  Human  com- 
panionship is  all  the  medicine  the  poor 
devil  wants  this  night."  He  turned  to 
Holloway  suddenly.  "  Here,  old  man," 
he  said — and  saw  that  Holloway  jumped 
at  his  voice  as  though  he  had  been  shot — 
"  drink  it  slowly.  It  will  help  things 
along  some,  I  think." 

Holloway  took  the  cup,  with  thanks 
and  high  faith  in  its  sleep-inducing  prop- 
102 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


erties,  and  sipped  docilely.  Deane  made 
sundry  preparations,  whistling  softly 
through  his  teeth.  The  lamplight  cast 
grotesque  shadows  behind  him  as  he 
moved. 

"  Now,  get  yourself  to  bed  as  quick 
as  you  know  how,"  he  ordered.  "  In  ten 
minutes  you'll  be  asleep  and  warranted 
not  to  dream." 

"  But  where  are  you  going  to  sleep  ?  " 
his  patient  asked,  rising. 

"  Never  mind  about  me,"  Deane  said 
with  decision. 

Still  docile,  Holloway  got  himself  to 
bed,  drawing  the  blanket  to  his  chin.  He 
gave  a  long  sigh  of  comfort,  as  he 
watched  Deane  moving  to  and  fro,  like  a 
child  that  feels  itself  secure  against  un- 
known terrors  of  the  dark  in  the  company 
103 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


of  its  elders.  Deane  rolled  himself  in  his 
blanket  on  the  floor  in  a  position  so  that 
he  could  keep  Holloway  in  view,  tucked 
his  coat  under  his  head  as  pillow,  and 
started  to  turn  out  the  lamp.  But  Hollo- 
way  sat  suddenly  bolt  upright  in  the  bed, 
and  began  to  speak  rapidly,  in  a  high 
voice : 

"  Deane,  hold  on  a  minute !  I  might  as 
well  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  I'll  be 
damned  if  I  impose  on  you  like  this.  I'm 
not  sick;  there's  nothing  the  matter  with 
me  except  sheer  beastly  funk.  I  don't 
know  how  you  thought  you  heard  me 
passing  outside.  The  truth  of  it  is,  I  was 
curled  up  in  a  blanket  on  the  other  side  of 
this  wall,  where  I  could  hear  you  moving 
in  here  and  the  scratch  of  your  pen.  All 

I  wanted  was  to  be  within  range  of  some- 
104 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


body,  where  I  could  hear  somebody  mov- 
ing, and  know  I  wasn't  alone  with  It.  I 
knew  if  I  stayed  in  my  tent  an  hour 
longer  I'd  be  off  down  among  those  tombs 
again.  I  was  afraid,  utterly  afraid — and 
you  can  guess  if  it's  a  pleasant  thing  to 
own  up  to — but  'fore  God  I  don't  know 
what  I  was  afraid  of.  I  didn't  intend  to 
come  in  here  and  rout  you  out  like  this. 
Just  let  me  have  a  blanket  and  a  place  on 
the  floor — I  don't  want  your  bed." 

He  flung  off  the  blankets  and  put  a  foot 
on  the  floor.  Deane  rolled  out  of  his  own 
blanket,  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  forced  him 
back  again. 

"  You  stay  right  where  you  are,  Bob. 
This  business  has  got  on  your  nerves  a 
bit,  that's  all.  Man  alive!  don't  worry 

about  the  bed.    Hope  you  don't  think  it's 
105 


A  Touch  of  the  Sun 


the  first  time  I've  slept  out  of  one !  And 
I'm  jolly  glad  you  came  to  me  if  you  felt 
like  that  about  it.  It's  not  a  good  thing 
for  a  fellow  to  be  alone  when  he  begins  to 
get  floored  this  way.  Now  go  to  sleep, 
will  you  ?  " 

Holloway  subsided.  Deane  went  back 
to  his  corner  and  lay  down.  There  was  a 
long  silence.  Unexpectedly  Holloway 
said  in  matter-of-fact  tones  from  the 
depths  of  his  blankets: 

"  I  say,  this  is  a  hell  of  a  place,  isn't 
it?" 


106 


CHAPTER  VI 
©ne  TRabo  Went  Swag 


N  the  morning,  when  Deane 
awoke,  he  found  his  patient  de- 
parted. At  breakfast,  in  the 
grey  dawn  before  sunrise,  Hol- 
loway  appeared,  exceedingly 
dignified,  carefully  unconcerned.  Deane 
showed  wisdom  by  making  no  allusion 
to  what  had  gone  before;  so  that,  by 
degrees,  Holloway's  dignity  relaxed. 

During  the  morning,  Deane  spent  most 
of  his  time  in  carefully  packing  cases  of 
antiquities  for  safe  transportation.  Mer- 
ritt,  as  usual,  was  in  the  trenches  with  his 

men;    Holloway  took  photographs  inde- 
107 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

fatigably.  He  swore  quite  savagely  at  his 
boy  when  the  latter  spilled  a  pan  of  fixa- 
tive; and  this  was  a  thing  unusual  to 
Holloway's  blithe  good  temper.  Later, 
he  and  Deane  fell  out,  over  a  question 
whose  seriousness  at  one  time  threatened 
to  plunge  all  three  into  civil  war.  Deane 
opened  the  fray  by  declaring,  a  propos  of 
dinners,  that  the  only  proper  way  to  cre- 
ate a  cocktail  of  the  genus  Martini  was  to 
add  a  half-spoonful  of  sherry  after  the 
other  ingredients  had  been  satisfactorily 
mixed,  if  at  all.  Holloway  declared  with 
vigour  that  the  sherry  should  go  in  before 
the  vermouth,  in  order  to  blend  properly ; 
and  announced  that  he  would  concoct  a 
specimen  on  this  plan  for  Deane  at  the 
Waldorf  the  night  they  reached  New 

York,  and  stand  him  a  champagne  supper 
1 08 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

if  his  theory  failed.  They  argued  warmly ; 
Merritt,  rashly  undertaking  to  mediate, 
was  speedily  placed  hors  de  combat  and 
forced  to  retire  ignominiously.  The  con- 
testants waxed  eloquent  in  invective,  los- 
ing sight  completely  of  the  casus  belli; 
in  the  end  they  parted,  sulky  as  two  angry 
children ;  thereafter  ignored  each  other  in 
high  disdain.  Merritt,  sorely  perplexed, 
strove  to  pour  balm  into  their  wounds, 
with  assurances  that  both  were  right — 
that  either  way  was  equally  good,  and 
that  the  sun  was  responsible  for  their 
— er,  irritation.  Whereat  Holloway  re- 
torted that  the  sun  had  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  it — that  it  was  merely  the  ob- 
stinate pigheadedness  of  some  people  who 
could  see  no  other  point  of  view  than  their 

own.    To  this  Deane  replied  that  it  was 
109 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

not  even  this,  but — and  stopped  short.  So 
that  Holloway,  imagining  a  taunt  where 
none  was  meant,  glared  at  him  in  fury 
and  strode  away. 

"  Now,  what's  got  into  him?  "  Merritt 
exclaimed,  half-irritated,  half-amused. 

"  I  guess  he  imagines  I  was  going  to 
twit  him  with  something  that  happened — 
er,  once,"  Deane  answered  lucidly.  "  He 
ought  to  be  taught  not  to  go  around  with 
a  chip  on  his  shoulder.  It's  disgusting 
bad  form.  I  never  would  have  thought  of 
arguing  with  him  if  he  had  not  taken  the 
words  out  of  my  mouth." 

He  was  very  busy  all  that  afternoon. 
Occasionally,  over  his  lists  and  identifica- 
tion-slips, he  found  time  to  grin  some- 
what sheepishly  at  the  futile  squabble; 

also  for  a  faint  patronising  resentment  at 
no 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

what  he  was  pleased  to  term  Holloway's 
crudeness. 

At  supper  Merritt  glanced  around  as 
though  all  at  once  missing  something,  and 
said: 

"Where's  Holloway?" 

Deane  helped  himself  to  canned  apri- 
cots, and  answered  tolerantly : 

"  Still  sulking,  I  suppose.  He  doesn't 
usually  go  off  the  tether  like  this.  I  al- 
ways thought  him  a  pretty  good-natured 
sort  of  cub." 

"  So  he  is ! "  Merritt  answered. 
"  Seems  to  me  you  were  a  bit  rough  on 
him,  Deane.  The  sun  in  these  parts  has 
a  trick  of  upsetting  a  fellow  once  in  a 
while,  and  the  boy  isn't  seasoned  timber 
yet. — Now  about  that  'perpetual  lamp/ 

I  shall  give  it  to  Dr.  Peabody,  at  the  Mu- 
iii 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

seum  in  Washington,  with  a  written  de- 
scription of  the  circumstances  under 
which  it  was  found.  I  haven't  touched  it, 
beyond  packing  it  away  in  the  D  case.  He 
can  extract  whatever  is  inside.  It  may 
solve,  or  help  to  solve,  the  problem  which 
men  have  been  working  over  a  good  many 
years — the  secret  of  perpetual  light.  I 
wish  it  to  go  on  exhibition,  with  some  of 
the  tablets  and  vases,  when  our  men  are 
through  with  them.  How  are  the 
squeezes  coming  on  ?  " 

They  smoked  peaceful  after-dinner 
pipes,  and  talked  over  their  plans  and 
projects.  At  times  Deane  caught  himself 
listening  for  a  quick,  boyish  step  and  an 
outbreak  of  cheerful  slang. 

When  the  next  morning's  work  was 
under  way,  Deane,  wishing  an  exposure 

112 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

made  of  a  certain  patterned  pavement,  that 
the  photograph  might  aid  in  replacing 
the  numbered  pieces  when  the  bit  was  re- 
constructed, went  for  Holloway  and  his 
camera.  Merritt  had  got  to  work  earlier 
than  usual  that  morning;  he  could  hear 
him  shouting  from  one  trench  to  Ibra- 
heem  in  another.  Abruptly  he  came  upon 
him,  and  full  of  the  business  in  hand, 
demanded : 

"  Where's  Holloway  ?  I  want  him  to 
get  a  shot  at  the  pavement  in  Square 
14." 

Merritt  glanced  at  him  with  a  sudden 
gravity. 

"  Didn't  you  know  ?    Holloway  did  not 

come  back  to  camp  last  night.    I've  got  a 

couple   of   men   out    now   hunting   him 

among  the  tombs.     He  must  have  fallen 

"3 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

down  and  injured  himself.  Perhaps  a 
tunnel  caved  in  on  him  somewhere." 

The  shock  of  this  announcement  turned 
Deane  cold.  Uppermost  in  his  mind  was 
the  thought — "Two  gone!  what  if  the 
boy  should  be  the  third  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he — he's  around  here  some- 
where," he  said,  and  strove  to  speak 
lightly.  Merritt  pushed  his  hat  on  the 
back  of  his  head  with  a  gesture  full  of 
worry  and  bewilderment. 

"I  hope  so!"  he  said  slowly.  "Of 
course,  it  must  be  so.  But  .  .  .  there 
are  Tarfa  and  Hafiz,  you  know !  " 

"  Perhaps  he  came  back,  and  went 
away  so  early  that  we  did  not  see  him," 
Deane  suggested.  At  heart  he  knew  this 
to  be  futile.  Merritt  shook  his  head. 

"No,  I  asked  Hamd,  his  boy."     He 
114 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

braced  himself  visibly  against  a  certain 
depression,  a  premonition  of  hopeless- 
ness. "  They  may  bring  him  in  at  noon," 
he  said,  with  an  obvious  effort  at  cheer- 
fulness. "  If  not — well,  we'll  send  out 
more  men.  I'm  afraid  he's  had  a  touch 
of  the  sun  lately,  to  tell  the  truth.  He's 
such  a  worker,  and  so  willing  to  take  any 
job  that  comes  his  way,  that  I — half  the 
time  I  forget  he's  green,  and  ought  to 
have  an  eye  kept  on  him,  and  take  it  out 
of  him  more  than  he  can  stand,  I'm 
afraid.  And  he'd  go  till  he  dropped,  the 
beggar,  and  never  open  his  mouth.  That's 
the  worst  of  him;  I  can't  tell  when  he's 
done  up.  Oh,  yes ;  he'll  come  in  with  the 
men  at  noon,  sure." 

They  cheered  themselves  with  this  re- 
frain throughout  the  afternoon.    But  to- 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

wards  evening  Merritt's  grey  face  was 
greyer  and  greatly  worn,  and  Deane  was 
silent  and  very  thoughtful.  Candidly  he 
confessed  that  he  had  been  a  brute;  had 
he  also  got  a  touch  of  the  sun  ?  His  mind 
went  back  to  the  scene  in  his  tent  the 
night  before;  he  heard  the  high,  boyish 
voice,  keyed  to  nervous  confession,  say- 
ing :  "  All  I  wanted  was  to  be  within 
range  of  somebody,  where  I  could  hear 
somebody  moving.  ...  I  knew 
if  I  stayed  in  that  tent  alone  an  hour 
longer,  I'd  be  off  among  those  tombs 
again.  ...  I  cannot  keep  away  from 
the  place.  .  .  .  I've  been  there  for 
the  last  four  nights,  and  I'm  afraid  as 
death  of  it."  He  lost  himself  in  a  maze 
of  vain  imaginings.  Had  the  boy  wanted 

him  last  night — needed  the  support  of 
116 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

human  companionship,  and  not  come  to 
him  because  of  their  foolish  squabble, 
fearing  scorn  and  ridicule?  Had  he 
fought  off  his  madness  by  himself,  hour 
after  hour  in  the  darkness,  and  at  last 
given  way  and  wandered  into  the  place  he 
dreaded — and  what  had  happened  then? 
Deane  knew  that  imagination  is  a  terribly 
real  factor  in  certain  crises  of  life,  let  it 
but  get  its  grip  upon  its  victim.  And 
Holloway  ...  at  the  thought  that 
he  might  be  following  in  the  footsteps  of 
those  other  two,  vanished  utterly  from 
the  face  of  the  earth,  Deane  started  up  to 
pace  the  camp  in  an  agony  of  restless- 
ness. 

Ibraheem,  scorching  himself  before  the 
fire  in  devoted  tendance  of  a  covered  dish 

containing  dainties  saved  from  supper  for 
117 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

the  return  of  Holloway,  whom  he  loved, 
looked  up  at  Deane's  sudden  motion. 

"  Ne  master  have  send  out  more  man," 
he  said  mournfully. 

Deane  nodded.  Ibraheem  nursed  his 
dish. 

"  Saar,  I  ask  a  word,  mos'  respectful. 
What  nis  go  to  mean.  What  is  eraisho- 
uf-perluserpy?  " 

Deane  pondered. 

"  Give  it  up !  Where  did  you  hear 
that?" 

"  Mister  Holloway  said  um.  To  me. 
Las'  night.  I  am  sit  by  fire.  He  come 
walkun  queek;  see  me  and  stop.  He  say, 
*  Ibraheem,  it  is  late,  eh  ? '  I  say  vurry 
late.  He  say,  '  Ibraheem,  I  have  saw  her, 
ne  woman  what  is  a  what  you  call  jinn.' 

Jus'  lak  nat." 

118 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

"  The  woman !  That  empty  supersti- 
tion again ! "  Deane  groaned. 

"  I  say, '  Saar,  for  Lord-God  sake  don't 
not  go.  Come  queek  and  lie  in  bed.'  And 
he  say,  '  Oh,  I'm  not  goin'  after  her,  you 
old  fool.  Jus'  goin'  down  in  tombs  a 
leetle.'  Nen  he  laugh  and  say,  '  Nere  is 
more  affair  in  Heaven-Earth  eraisho  nan 
in  er  perluserpy ' — I  don't  know  what  else. 
Some  kind  dam'  bad  Englis'  nat,  eh  ?  So 
he  go,  and  byumby  I  go  to  hole  and  look 
down  for  to  see  um.  But  I  see  um  comin' 
to  me,  on  ne  ground,  saar,  all  white  in  she 
face,  wiv  um  eyes  green  lak  fire,  sleepin' 
round  mound-earths  lak  um  cat  at  night, 
sayin'  so  sof ' :  '  I  won't  not  go — I  won't 
not  go.'  Nen  he  go,  and  I  run  queek  to 
ne  mens  and  fall  down,  and  go  to  slip  to 

keep  um  spucks  away." 
119 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

Deane  went  off  to  Merritt. 

"  I'm  going  to  look  for  the  boy  myself. 
If  what  Ibraheem  says  is  straight,  I'm 
afraid  he's  gone  as  Tarfa  and  Hafiz 
went." 

Merritt  looked  at  him. 

"  You  mean " 

Deane  nodded  miserably. 

"  Yes.  It  seems  he  saw  the  same  thing. 
Ibraheem  heard  him  talking." 

"Why  didn't  Ibraheem  stop  him?" 
Merritt  cried  with  a  flash  of  anger. 

"  Oh,  because  he's  a  fool,"  Deane  re- 
torted. "  I  shall  take  half  a  dozen  men, 
with  food  and  all  the  water 'you  can  spare. 
Somehow  "  —  he  drew  a  long  breath, 
setting  his  teeth — "  I  feel  as  though  it 
had  been  partly  my  fault.  You  see — a 
couple  of  nights  ago  he  came  and  told  me 

120 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

a  thing  or  two.  And  I  shouldn't  have 
spoken  as  I  did  yesterday.  I  ought  to  have 
remembered."  Suddenly  he  struck  one 
fist  into  the  palm  of  his  open  hand.  "  Oh, 
it's  impossible ! "  he  cried  harshly. 
"  Nothing  so  hellish  could  happen !  He 
must  be  around  somewhere;  surely  we'll 
overtake  him  in  a  couple  of  miles!  I 
wish  to  Heaven  we'd  never  set  eyes  on 
this  cursed  place !  " 

Two  hours  later  Deane  and  his  party 
started.  Deane,  the  last  to  leave,  came  to 
Merritt  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  said.  "  Will  you  run 
up  a  flag  on  the  tallest  pole  on  the  highest 
mound,  and  leave  it  there  until  we  get 
back?" 

Merritt's  hand  gripped  his  hard. 

"Aye,"  he  said.      "I'll  do  it.      God 

121 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

grant  you  bring  the  poor  lad  back  safe 
with  you.  But  .  .  .  take  care  of  your- 
self, Deane.  Remember  that  if  you  don't 
find  him  within  the  week,  it  ...  will  be 
no  use  to  look  further." 

They  rode  away  towards  the  darkening 
east,  away  from  the  sunset;  and  he 
watched,  without  speech  or  motion,  until 
they  were  mere  black  dots  crawling  upon 
the  desert  floor. 

Thereafter,  Merritt  discovered  that  he 
had  fresh  troubles  on  his  hands.  The 
fourth  day  after  Deane's  departure  a  man 
raced  into  the  camp  at  supper-time,  crying 
shrilly.  His  words  brought  the  camp 
about  him,  nervous,  ready  for  any  new 
alarm.  Ibraheem  dragged  him  to  Mer- 
ritt, leaving  a  tumult  of  excited  voices  in 
his  wake;  and  reported  that  the  man,  re- 

122 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

turning  to  the  farthest  trench  after  the 
workmen  were  gone,  to  look  for  a  lost 
pick-head,  had  found  the  mummy  of  the 
Princess  in  a  shallow  cave  in  a  heap  of 
rubbish.  Ibraheem  further  stated  that  the 
men  demanded  instant  permission  to  wall 
it  up  in  its  tomb  again,  that  the  evil  spell 
of  the  place  might  thus  be  broken. 

Merritt  was  surprised  and  amused  and 
indignant.  The  finding  of  the  mummy 
was  a  big  piece  of  luck;  the  man  should 
be  rewarded.  But  as  for  burying  it  again, 
that  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  It  was  en- 
tirely senseless  for  the  men  to  connect  that 
bit  of  harmless  dried  skin  and  bones 
with  all  their  troubles ;  such  a  theory  was 
not  worth  serious  consideration.  The 
mummy  should  be  recovered  and  packed 

securely  that  same  night.    Also  the  finder 
123 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

was  to  go  with  Merritt  at  once  to  point 
out  its  whereabouts.  In  vain  the  man 
protested.  Merritt's  grey  eye  overawed 
him;  he  yielded  and  went,  first  borrow- 
ing all  the  amulets  he  could  find  from  any 
who  would  lend.  Thus  equipped  and  for- 
tified against  the  Devil,  he  led  the  way, 
shivering  and  whining,  past  the  trenches 
nearest  the  camp  to  one  of  the  old  dig- 
gings. Here  he  searched  until  he  came 
to  a  shallow  cave  in  the  further  side  of  the 
rubbish-heap. 

"  This  is  the  place,  my  master,"  he 
said,  and  crept  forward  to  look.  Then  he 
dropped  upon  his  knees  and  felt  for  all 
his  amulets  and  prayed  crazily,  even  as 
Merritt  said  with  sternness: 

"  You've  forgotten  the  place.     There's 

no  mummy  here." 

124 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

"  But  it  is  the  place,  my  master,  where 
one  hour  ago  my  eyes  did  see  it.  By 
Allah,  it  is  the  place!  It  has  gone,  and 
because  I  tracked  it,  its  wrath  shall  come 
upon  me,  and  I  shall  perish  as  did  my 
master  and  my  friends.  Oh,  master, 
come  away!  The  place  is  cursed.  It  is 
the  lair  of  the  evil  soul,  which  we  have 
freed  from  death  to  lure  us  into  death. 
Ai,  master,  come !  " 

"  Get  along  With  you,  you  chicken- 
heart  ! "  Merritt  muttered  in  wrathful 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  waved  him  off.  The 
man  knew  not  the  words,  but  took  the 
hint  and  fled.  For  an  hour  Merritt  pa- 
tiently searched  the  mounds,  the  aban- 
doned trenches,  the  deserted  tombs.  Once 
he  looked  up,  feeling  eyes  upon  him,  and 

said  with  annoyance: 
125 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

"  Get  back  to  camp,  I  tell  you !  If  you 
won't  work,  I  won't  have  you  peering 
around  here."  Again,  later,  he  repeated 
his  command,  with  growing  anger.  In  the 
end  he  found  nothing,  and  became  con- 
vinced that  the  man  had  lied.  He 
marched  back  to  camp,  hot  and  much  dis- 
gusted, and  sent  for  the  culprit,  who  came 
in  serene  innocence. 

"  Why  did  you  lie  to  me  ?  "  Merritt 
asked.  "  When  I  sent  you  from  the  place, 
why  did  you  return?  So  that  you  might 
laugh  when  you  saw  that  I  followed  your 
worthless  directions  ?  " 

"  I  was  not  from  the  camp,  my  mas- 
ter !  "  the  man  declared.  "  And  where  I 
said  I  saw  the  mummy,  there  I  saw  it. 
When  it  went  I  do  not  know;  where  it 

went  I  do  not  know  either." 
126 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

"  That  '11  do.  Perhaps  you  don't.  Only 
bring  no  more  fairy  tales  here.  I  won't 
have  'em.  Understand  ?  " 

But  in  the  morning  a  new  complication 
rose.  Ibraheem  hunted  up  Merritt,  an 
uneasy  scowl  on  his  dark  face,  and  told 
him  that  the  men  absolutely  refused  to 
enter  the  trenches.  The  workman's  tale 
had  done  its  business.  They  were  afraid, 
they  acknowledged  frankly;  they  would 
do  anything  under  heaven  to  please  their 
master,  whom  they  loved  as  they  loved 
their  fathers  and  their  mothers,  but  enter 
the  accursed  city  and  its  devil-haunted 
tombs,  they  would  not.  Merritt  saw 
that  unless  he  played  his  cards  with 
care,  he  would  have  a  mutiny  upon  his 
hands.  Superstition  was  rampant;  they 

were  an  hundred,  he  was  one.    Only  the 
127 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

workman  who  had  given  the  false  alarm 
stuck  to  Merritt.  For  three  days  the  two 
laboured,  doing  what  two  pair  of  willing 
arms  might  do;  for  three  days  the  army 
of  shirkers  ate  and  loafed  and  smoked  and 
slept  in  the  shade,  embarrassingly  respect- 
ful to  Merritt,  stubborn  as  polite  mules 
when  it  came  to  the  test. 

Then  the  devoted  one  disappeared,  even 
as  three  before  him  had  done,  in  the 
night,  in  silence  and  mystery.  This  raised 
an  open  panic.  The  men  became  utterly 
convinced  of  an  influence  for  evil  working 
actively  in  their  midst;  each  man  looked 
upon  himself  as  the  next  possible  victim. 
Ibraheem  hinted  to  Merritt  that  they 
might,  in  an  excess  of  terror,  capture  the 
animals  and  provisions  and  desert  in  a 

body,    taking   the   law    into   their   own 
128 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

hands;  and  Merritt  leaped  from  his 
camp-chair  and  strode  out  into  the  sun- 
light, his  jaw  set,  his  eyes  ablaze  with  the 
light  of  coming  battle.  The  men,  gath- 
ered into  muttering  groups,  drew  apart 
as  he  appeared  among  them.  He  seized 
the  instant's  advantage  their  pause  gave 
him  and  spoke,  not  loudly,  not  angrily, 
but  so  that  every  man  heard  his  voice, 
and  felt  his  courage  oozing  from  him 
under  the  fire  of  the  grey  Saxon  eyes. 
His  words  were  Arabic,  and  understood 
by  all ;  he  stood  upon  a  hillock  of  rubbish, 
bareheaded,  his  shirt  blowing  free  from 
his  tanned  neck,  head  thrown  back,  un- 
armed, dominating  them  by  sheer  force 
of  will  and  the  heritage  of  the  blood  that 
was  in  him. 

"  See  here,  men,  you're  not  children  to 
129 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

be  frightened  at  the  dark  like  this.  Queer 
things  have  happened  lately,  I'm  not  de- 
nying, but  they're  queer  only  because  we 
have  not  happened  to  hit  on  the  right  ex- 
planation of  them.  Don't  you  know  that 
yourselves?  "  One  or  two  heads  nodded 
doubtfully.  "  I'm  not  going  to  argue 
with  you ;  I'm  not  even  going  to  tell  you 
that  you're  fools.  In  regard  to  Daheer, 
who  went  away  last  night — how  do  you 
know  but  that  one  of  your  own  number,  in 
revenge  for  his  faithfulness  to  me,  fright- 
ened him  in  the  night-time,  so  that  he, 
thinking  the  hand  of  evil  was  upon  him, 
fled  into  the  desert  to  escape  ?  " 

They  did  not  know.  Quickly  they  saw 
his  point — an  Arab  is  not  slow-witted — 
and  discussed  it  among  themselves.  Each 

knew  that  himself  had  not  done  it — that 
130 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

went  without  saying — but  whether  an- 
other was  guilty  they  could  not  tell. 

"  Whoever  will  may  leave  this  place," 
Merritt  said;  and  at  once  there  was  a 
turning  of  heads  towards  him.  "  But  he 
must  go  without  food  and  without  water, 
since  I  do  not  intend  to  equip  any  person- 
ally-conducted expeditions.  If  he  will,  let 
him  go  from  here  westward,  where  in 
four  days,  or  five,  at  most,  he  shall  come 
into  the  track  of  caravans.  If  he  is  lucky 
he  may  find  a  caravan  passing,  and  re- 
ceive food  and  drink.  If  he  finds  no 
caravan,  then  .""  .  .  it  may  be  that  he 
will  wish  that  he  had  stayed  with  me." 
He  paused,  to  let  this  idea  sink  home. 
"  But  whoever  stays  with  me  " — his  voice 
deepened — "  shall  work  in  the  trenches  or 
out  of  the  trenches,  as  I  command.  I  will 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

have  no  shirking,  no  complaints.  For 
two  days  I  have  waited  to  see  if  wis- 
dom would  enter  you;  now  I  wait  no 
longer.  Choose  now;  will  you  go  or 
stay?" 

A  gasp  of  astonishment  followed  his 
words.  They  had  expected  time  to  make 
up  their  minds,  and  in  the  East  time 
means  eternity.  To  be  put  to  the  question 
thus,  brutally,  at  once,  was  unexpected. 
They  wavered,  chattered,  became  all  at 
once  helpless  and  vacillating.  Merritt 
spoke  once  more. 

"  If  you  go,  you  are  free  to  wander  as 
you  like,  and  to  perish  as  you  like.  But 
if  you  stay  you  will  obey  my  orders  with- 
out question,  will  answer  fully  and  com- 
pletely to  my  commands;  for  I  am  the 
master  here ! " 

132 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

His  voice  held  menace  and  power  and 
warning.  They  murmured.  Merritt's 
eyes  flashed ;  he  sprang  from  the  low  hill- 
ock of  earth.  He  was  unarmed,  but  they 
shrank  back.  And  it  was  then  that  a 
sound  broke  in  upon  them;  and  Ibra- 
heem,  wheeling  to  look,  cried  aloud,  and 
ran  to  Merritt  and  shook  his  arm,  shout- 
ing: 

"  Look — see,  saar !  Oh,  Lord-God, 
look  see ! " 

Behind  them,  so  that  they  turned  to  see 
it,  a  figure  was  racing  over  the  sands  rap- 
idly, stumbling  with  staggering  steps,  a 
gaunt  skeleton  with  fluttering  rags;  and 
as  it  came  it  cried  three  times,  hoarsely: 
"  Merritt,  Merritt,  Merritt !  "  and  stum- 
bled on  past  Merritt,  looking  neither  to 
the  right  nor  left,  reeling  drunkenly,  pant- 
133 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

ing  like  an  overridden  horse.  An  instant 
Merritt  stood  motionless  with  his  men; 
but  with  the  voice,  he  understood  and 
leaped  forward  and  caught  the  flying  fig- 
ure by  its  arm. 

"Deane!  Deane!  For  God's  sake, 
what's  happened  ?  " 

And  Deane  stumbled,  recovered  him- 
self, reeled,  and  came  slowly  to  the 
ground,  with  Merritt's  arm  about  his 
shoulders,  and  his  face  hidden  in  his 
hands. 

Merritt  looked  up,  white  to  the  lips 
with  sheer  fright. 

"  Get  water,  somebody !  "  he  cried. 

They  brought  him  a  cup,  but  Deane 

made  no  motion  to  take  it  until  Merritt 

held   it  carefully  to  his   lips.     Then  he 

snatched  it,  with  a  snarl  like  a  hungry 

134 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

beast,  and  drained  it  and  laughed 
hoarsely. 

"  Give  me  more ! "  he  panted,  and 
struggled  to  rise. 

"  There,  old  boy !  keep  cool !  "  Merritt 
soothed,  and  held  him  down.  f<  Take  it 
easy;  you'll  have  enough." 

He  gave  Deane  the  cup  again,  and 
splashed  water  on  the  grimed  parched 
skin  that  drank  as  a  plant  drinks 
rain. 

"  I  had  bad  times  out  there,"  Deane 
said  suddenly.  He  spoke  thickly,  out  of 
a  stiff  throat,  with  a  curious  eagerness, 
yet  a  certain  hesitancy,  in  short,  detached 
sentences.  "  My  men  deserted  when  I 
insisted  on  searching  farther.  They  took 
all  the  food.  And  the  water.  You 
see  " — the  words  came  painfully — "  I 
135 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

.  .  .  didn't  find  him.  Two  nights 
ago — when  was  it?  I  forget.  I've  been 
out  there  years  and  years.  But  some- 
thing happened.  I  saw  something  run- 
ning away  from  me.  So  I  chased  it. 
And  when  I  found  it  .  .  ."  He  broke 
off.  "  I  don't  know  what  I'm  talking 
about.  That  morning  I  had  been  just 
within  sight  of  your  flag,  so  I  was  pretty 
sure  of  my  direction.  But  I  went  on, 
keeping  it  as  well  as  I  could.  I  was 
nearly  gone  then.  I  heard  your  voices. 
And  I  ran,  and  called  for  you."  Again 
he  stopped. 

Merritt,  giving  him  drink,  said  un- 
certainly : 

"  I  don't  think  I  understand.  Why  do 
you  say  '  heard  your  voices  '  ?  Of  course, 
you  must  have  seen  the  camp  before  you 
136 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

heard  us,  or  were  we  making  such  a 
racket " 

And  after  his  words  there  came  a 
pause,  unexpected,  pregnant  with  hidden 
meaning.  Merritt  suddenly  saw  Deane's 
hands  slowly  clench,  with  a  strength 
which  left  the  knuckles  white,  clench 
until  they  shook  to  the  muscular  effort. 
Deane  said,  very  slowly,  in  a  perfectly  ex- 
pressionless voice: 

"  I — thought  you  had  found  it  out  by 
this  time.  Merritt  .  .  .  I'm  blind." 

Again  there  was  a  pause.  The  cup  in 
Merritt's  hand- remained  tilted,  its  con- 
tents spilling  upon  the  ground.  Then  he 
said,  almost  below  his  breath: 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

"I'll  tell  you.  Later.  Can't  we  get 
inside  somewhere?  I  feel  the  sun," 
137 


The  One  Who  Went  Away 

Deane  said.  He  got  himself  to  his  feet, 
unsteady,  making  a  strong  effort  to  get 
control  of  his  weakness.  Merritt  passed 
an  arm  through  his,  and  led  him  to  his 
tent.  A  crowd  of  natives  followed,  curi- 
ous as  children,  understanding  nothing  of 
what  had  passed.  .  .  . 

That  night,  lying  on  his  bed  with  a  wet 
cloth  about  his  head,  Deane  told  his  story 
to  Merritt,  in  the  darkness. 


138 


CHAPTER  VII 
Cbe  ©tber  *5dbo  "Returned 

.ERRITT  sat  at  the  tent 
door,  smoking,  glancing 
now  at  the  long  figure  on 
the  bed,  now  out  across 
the  night  to  where  the  mounds  loomed 
through  the  darkness.  Deane's  voice 
was  low,  and  slow;  at  times  he  paused 
for  minutes  as  though  to  gather  fresh 
strength. 

"  I  don't  remember  very  clearly  about 
parts  of  it,"  he  said.  "  So  if  I  get  dis- 
connected now  and  then,  you'll  know  it's 
because  I  can't  fit  it  all  together.  We 
searched  in  circles.  For  three  days  the 
139 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

men  were  all  right.  Then  we  worked 
around  to  the  Rocks,  where  I  had  half 
expected  to  find  at  least  the  remains  of  the 
Arabs,  but  there  was  nothing.  After  we 
left  the  Rocks  the  men  began  to  get  ugly. 
They  declared  there  was  no  use  in  looking 
further,  and  they  wanted  to  return. 
Every  day  brought  emptiness  and  failure. 
Holloway  would  not  have  been  alive  if  we 
had  found  him,  and  although  I  hated  to 
give  up,  I  felt  I  could  not  risk  the  men's 
lives.  So  I  said  that  the  next  day  we'd 
start  back.  But  that  night  a  caravan 
passed  us,  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  away. 
My  men  deserted  and  went  to  join  it. 
They  took  everything  but  my  glass,  my 
compass  and  waterskin,  and  what  food  I 
had  with  me.  I  started  back.  ...  I 

started  back.    On  the  " — he  paused,  with 
140 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

a  visible  effort  to  fix  his  attention  on  his 
words — "  I  think  it  was  the  third  day,  the 
water  gave  out.  The  next  day  at  sunrise 
I  saw  the  flag.  It  could  not  be  seen  with 
the  naked  eye;  with  the  glass  it  was  just 
visible.  If  it  had  not  been  for  that,  I 
should  have  died — out  there.  I  covered 
a  good  many  miles  that  morning.  There 
was  not  a  scrap  of  shade,  and  the  sun  was 
cruel.  About  noon  I  saw  something  run- 
ning ahead.  I  thought  at  first  it  might 
be  Holloway,  still  alive  by  a  miracle,  gone 
crazy,  you  know,  with  the  sun.  Anyhow, 
I  was  not  going  to  take  chances.  I 
chased  it.  Luckily  for  me,  it  went  in  the 
general  direction  of  the  flag,  due  east. 
Then  I  realised  what  I  was  doing,  with 
the  sun  scorching  like  a  blast  of  furnace 

heat.     But  by  that  time  the  mischief  was 
141 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

done.  My  brain  was  burnt  out;  there 
was  an  iron  band  across  my  forehead.  I 
nearly  went  mad  with  the  pain.  I  think 
I  got  delirious  after  a  while,  for  every 
time  I  woke,  I  was  chasing  that  infernal 
thing  across  the  desert.  It  stopped  after 
a  while.  I  thought  it  lay  down,  but  that 
may  have  been  my  eyes.  I  was  seeing 
stars  and  pinwheels  then.  And  then 
something  cracked  inside  my  head,  and 
the  light  went  out." 

He  drew  a  long  breath.  Always  his 
voice  was  slow  and  monotonous,  devoid 
of  all  expression. 

"  For  a  while  I  ...  I  stayed  where  I 
was.  Then  I  swore  I'd  get  back  in  spite 
of  it,  or  die  on  my  feet.  So  I  went  on, 
as  nearly  due  east  as  I  could  guess,  try- 
ing to  keep  in  the  direction  I  had  been 
142 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

started  in.  The  fear  that  all  uncon- 
sciously I  would  get  to  walking  in  a 
circle,  and  so  keep  on  until  my  strength 
gave  out;  the  feeling  of  appalling  help- 
lessness, of  not  knowing  whether  I  was 
headed  right  or  whether  I  might  as  well 
sit  down  where  I  was  and  wait  for  the 
finish.  ...  I  tell  you,  Merritt,  it  was  a 
journey  to  Hell  and  back  again."  His 
voice  shook,  ever  so  slightly.  Merritt, 
in  the  doorway,  turned  his  head  away. 

"  What  I'm  about  to  tell  you  now  you 
may  say  is  nothing  but  the  recollection  of 
a  delirium,"  the  monotonous,  controlled 
voice  went  on.  "  I  don't  know  how  long 
I  had  been  travelling.  It  was  slow  work, 
as  you  may  guess.  Suddenly  I  tripped 
over  something.  I  felt  around  on  the 
ground  and  my  hands  struck  what  had 
143 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

thrown  me.  It  ...  it  was  a  body,  Mer- 
ritt,  a  dried  husk  that  sounded  hollow 
when  I  struck  it.  I  don't  know  whose. 
It  might  have  been  the  boy's.  They  do 
dry  up  so  fast,  out  in  this  sun,  you 
know.  ...  It  was  a  shock,  an  awful  one. 
I  don't  know  what  I  did.  I  was  so  set, 
heart  and  soul,  on  keeping  a  straight 
course,  that  I  scarcely  dared  turn  my  face 
aside  or  stop  moving.  ...  I  felt  for  it,  to 
see  if  I  could  tell  anything  by  the  clothes, 
but  it  slipped  out  of  my  hands  and — and 
I  could  not  find  it  again.  I  groped  for 
it,  but  dared  not  move  far  to  either  side, 
lest  I  get  turned  around.  It  may  have 
been  lying  within  a  foot  of  me,  and  I 
missed  it.  So  I  said — '  God  have  mercy 
on  your  soul,  whoever  you  were ! '  and 

went  on,  and  left  it  lying  there.     But  if 
144 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

it  were  Holloway — if  it  were  the  boy! 
To  come  across  him,  and  not  know  him, 
and  leave  him !  " — A  sob  shook  him  from 
head  to  foot.  He  continued,  quietly  as 
always. 

"  He's  one  of  Us,  of  our  speech  and  of 
our  blood.  And  we  were  all  he  had  out 
here.  ...  It  isn't  profitable  talking  about 
those  days  that  followed.  I  think  there 
were  three  of  them.  My  waterskin  was 
empty;  I  chewed  on  dry  biscuit  until  my 
mouth  bled.  In  the  mornings  I  set  my 
course  by  the  heat  of  the  rising  sun  on 
my  face.  I  broke  out  the  crystal  of  my 
watch  that  I  might  feel  the  hands  and 
know  when  they  pointed  to  noon  and  the 
sun  would  be  behind  me.  I  had  to  travel 
in  the  morning  so  that  I  might  have  the 
feel  of  the  sun  to  go  by,  and  at  night  I 
145 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

was  afraid  to  stir  lest  I  get  turned 
around.  Oh,  those  nights!  My  God! 
those  nights !  "  His  voice  dropped  to  a 
whisper.  In  a  moment  it  went  quietly 
on,  restrained,  devoid  of  all  expression. 

"  Occasionally  I  had  half  -  delirious 
dreams,  which  I  could  not  distinctly  re- 
member afterwards.  Usually  I  was  in  a 
garden,  where  the  perfume  of  the  jasmine 
and  the  honeysuckle  was  enough  to  drag 
the  very  heart  out  of  you,  and  where  a 
woman  was  with  me,  whose  face  I 
couldn't  see.  And  I  dreamt  about  the 
Princess  a  good  deal — probably  because  I 
had  had  her  on  my  mind — seeing  her 
always  as  she  must  have  been  once,  and 
never  as  the — the  thing  we  found.  In 
one  dream,  which  I  can  remember,  and 

which  I'll  never  be  able  to  forget,  I  saw 
146 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

the  boy — our  boy — in  this  garden  place. 
He  was  lying  face  downward  on  the 
ground — I  swear  I  could  almost  have 
touched  him,  it  was  so  real! — and  a 
woman  was  stooping  over  him — oh,  Mer- 
ritt,  the  loveliest  thing  that  God  or  the 
Devil  ever  made!  I  never  was  much 
given  to  running  after  women,  but — in 
that  dream  I  wanted  to  strangle  him,  to 
crush  the  life  and  breath  and  soul  out  of 
him,  because  that  woman  was  leaning 
over  him,  with  her  breath  on  him  and  her 
hands  on  his  head,  and  7  was  mad  for 
her.  In  a  way,  I  could  see  myself  creep- 
ing through  that  garden  towards  them, 
quite  without  volition  of  my  own,  parting 
the  vines  and  the  flowers  carefully  that 
they  might  not  rustle.  And  as  I  got  to 

them "    Deane  stopped  abruptly.  His 

147 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

hand  closed  hard  upon  a  corner  of  the 
blanket. 

"  As  I  got  to  them,  the  woman  looked 
over  her  shoulder  at  me.  From  that 
point  it's  all  confused  and  vague,  as 
dreams  will  be,  and  I've  lost  the  details. 
I  only  know  that  she  left  the  boy  lying  on 
the  ground,  and  moved  away;  that  I  fol- 
lowed her,  and  caught  her,  and  she  did 
not  struggle,  but  put  her  arms  about  my 
neck  and  held  her  lips  to  mine.  I  tell 
you,  I  felt  the  weight  of  her  body  and  the 
warmth  of  her  breath  as  though  I  had 
held  her  in  the  flesh.  And  when  earth 
and  hell  and  heaven  itself  held  nothing 
but  the  madness  of  her  beauty,  I  felt  a 
change.  She  seemed  to  stiffen  in  my 
grasp ;  her  arms  dropped  from  my  shoul- 
ders. And  then  I  saw  a  change.  Saw 
148 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

it  as  plainly  as  though  I  had  been  awake 
and  she  was  there  in  actual  fact.  I  saw 
her  flesh  shrivel  and  the  skin  cling  tight 
to  the  bones.  I  saw  her  face  sink  in  until 
the  eyes  were  gone,  and  the  cheeks  were 
gaunt  and  covered  with  wrinkled  brown 
parchment,  and  the  lips  were  grinning 
like  the  jaws  of  a  skull.  And  the  thing 
slid  out  of  my  arms  and  lay  on  the 
ground,  stark  and  rigid.  Then  I  thought 
that  Holloway,  from  the  ground,  spoke, 
without  moving,  and  said  — '  It  isn't 
worth  while,  after  all,  is  it  ?  '  And  I  woke 
in  a  cold  sweat  of  abject  terror,  with  his 
voice  ringing  in  my  ears  so  that  I  could 
have  sworn  that  someone  had  just 
spoken.  .  .  .  Oh,  it  was  maudlin,  I  don't 
deny  it,  and  I  was  well  over  the  edge  of 

madness ! "     His  voice  all  at  once  was 
149 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

strained  and  tired.  "  Three  times  I  had 
that  dream.  I  used  to  wait  for  it,  and 
long  for  it,  to  intoxicate  myself  with  her 
loveliness,  but  even  in  my  sleep  I  was  con- 
scious of  trying  desperately  to  waken  be- 
fore the — the  change  should  come.  I 
never  succeeded,  and  when  I  did  wake,  it 
was  always  in  the  same  shiver  of  mortal 
fear,  with  that  thing,  dark  and  stiff,  on 
the  ground  at  my  feet.  And  the  third 
time  .  .  ." 

Again  he  stopped,  controlling  himself 
with  an  effort,  gathering  fresh  strength  to 
continue. 

"  Have  you  ever  roused  suddenly  from 
sleep  at  night,  for  no  apparent  cause,  and 
realised  that  your  mind,  your  conscious- 
ness, was  broadly  awake  while  for  a  bare 

instant  your  body  still  slept,  as  it  were? 
150 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

It  gives  you  the  physical  sensation  of 
sleep;  you  feel  that  your  whole  being  is 
at  lowest  ebb,  that  your  heart  is  beating 
slower,  that  your  limbs  are  weighed  down 
by  faint  numbness,  that  you  are  pro- 
foundly immovable.  You  are  not,  of 
course;  when  you  make  the  conscious 
effort,  you  can  move  with  perfect  ease. 
It  lasts  barely  a  second.  That  is  how  I 
woke,  the  third  time.  And  in  that 
instant,  while  I  lay  feeling  as  though  I 
could  not  stir  hand  or  foot  to  save  my 
soul,  yet  with  every  mental  faculty  wak- 
ing to  alertness,  I  got  the  impression  of 
arms — soft  human  arms — removed  from 
my  neck,  and  knew  that  something  be- 
side me  had  sprung  away,  swiftly  and 
silently.  Dear  Lord  in  heaven,  how  I 
cursed  my  blindness  then !  Not  to  know 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

whether  I  was  the  plaything  of  strange 
forces,  none  the  less  real  because  I  could 
not  understand  them,  or  whether  it  was 
all  the  workings  of  a  fever-haunted  brain 
— whether  something  was  actually  hap- 
pening out  there  in  the  desert,  or 
whether  I  was  merely  playing  the  fool — 
luckily  with  nobody  at  hand  to  take  in  the 
full  beauty  of  the  spectacle.  .  .  .  Oh, 
well!  The  only  conclusion  I  can  come 
to  is  that  during  those  three  days  I  was 
undoubtedly  insane.  And  ...  I  hope  to 
God  it's  the  correct  one.  ...  It  seemed 
as  though  this  went  on  for  cycles  of  time ; 
shivering  nights  spent  half  in  a  state  of 
maudlin,  sensuous  bliss — half  in  a  panic 
of  crazy  fear;  blistering  days,  crawling 
on,  inch  by  inch,  over  red-hot  sands,  in  a 

blackness  that  was  swimming  with  blood- 
152 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

red  mist.  ...  I  soberly  thought  I  had 
walked  for  weeks  when  I  heard  voices 
that  sounded  quite  close  at  hand.  I  for- 
got that  sound  carries  over  the  desert 
almost  as  over  water,  and  thought 
I  was  right  among  you.  I  heard 
Ibraheem  screaming  to  his  '  Lord-God ' 
about  something,  and  I  ran.  .  .  . 
That's  all." 

His  slow  voice  stopped  with  a  gasp  of 
utter  exhaustion.  And  for  a  long  space 
was  silence. 

When  at  last  Merritt  spoke,  huskily,  no 
answer  came.  He  went  to  the  bed, 
shielding  his  light  with  care,  and  stood 
looking  down.  Deane's  gaunt  frame  was 
relaxed,  his  drawn  face,  graven  into  new 
deep  lines  of  suffering,  was  quiet,  his 
darkened  eyes  were  closed.  Merritt 
153 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

turned  the  lamp  out  and  stole  noiselessly 
from  the  tent.     .     .     . 

In  spite  of  Merritt's  anxious  care, 
Deane  did  not  seem  to  rally  from  the 
effects  of  that  desert  journey.  So  that 
Merritt  wished  to  hasten  the  work,  and 
get  away,  but  to  this  Deane  obstinately 
refused  to  listen.  He  argued  forcefully 
that  no  time  was  like  the  present;  that 
they  did  not  know  if  they  could  ever  get 
out  again ;  that  if  his  eyes  could  be  cured 
at  all,  a  few  weeks'  delay  would  not  harm 
them.  In  the  end  Merritt  yielded,  partly 
because  he  wished  to  believe  what  Deane 
said,  partly  because  all  his  heart  was  in 
his  work.  Soon  Deane  learned  to  go 
about  by  himself,  with  the  aid  of  a  stick, 
stumbling  at  first,  for  the  ground  was 
154 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

badly  cut  up,  later  with  comparative  ease 
and  rapidity.  That  his  helplessness  was 
worse  to  him  than  the  bitterness  of  death, 
Merritt  knew  unerringly.  Of  this  Deane 
never  spoke,  but  his  face,  when  he  failed 
in  some  erstwhile  easy  task,  all  uncon- 
sciously betrayed  him.  Continually  he 
was  restless,  ill  at  ease,  yet  striving 
doggedly  to  get  himself  in  hand.  Merritt 
began  to  notice  in  him  a  desire  for  com- 
panionship, especially  towards  nightfall; 
noticed  with  opened  eyes  that  Deane  kept 
himself  always  near  a  group  of  men,  even 
though  he  sat  silent,  taking  no  part  in 
their  talk.  Twice,  Merritt,  going  late  at 
night  cautiously  to  his  tent  to  see  that  he 
wanted  nothing,  found  it  empty.  At  first 
this  frightened  him,  suggesting  thoughts 
of  Deane  wandering  alone  in  the  dark- 
155 


The  Other  Who  Returned 

ness,  until  he  remembered  that  night  and 
day  were  as  the  same  to  Deane. 

So  a  week  went  by;  and  the  Evil  that 
brooded  over  them  awoke  once  more  and 
stalked  abroad. 


156 


CHAPTER  VIII 
at  tbe  Bleventb  Dour 

ERRITT,  in  his  tent,  was 
busily  bringing  his  jour- 
nal down  to  date.  The 
lamplight  fell  unspar- 
ingly on  his  grey  face,  weather-worn 
and  with  tired  eyes,  and  flung  a 
distorted  shadow  of  him  on  the  tent 
wall  behind  him.  He  wrote  slowly, 
making  no  corrections,  methodical,  thor- 
ough, as  in  all  his  doings.  The  jour- 
nal was  a  marvel  of  brevity  and  concise- 
ness. His  pen  was  finishing  the  sentence 
— "which  I  wish  to  present  to  the 
National  Museum,  in  Washington,  D.  C, 
157 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

with  the  hope  that  my  good  friend,  Dr. 
Peabody,  may,  on  examination,  be 
enabled  to  analyse  what  it  contains." 
For  it  was  of  the  lamp  he  wrote,  the  lamp, 
which,  cold  and  dead,  later  found  its 
place  in  a  glass  case  among  old  relics  of 
bygone  days,  labelled  with  a  card  bearing 
an  outline  of  its  half-known  strange  his- 
tory, of  which  the  beginning  was  forever 
lost.  He  was  deep  in  interested  reviewal 
of  its  discovery,  when  a  stumble  at  the 
door  and  a  smothered  curse  announced 
the  advent  of  Deane. 

"  Can  I  come  in  ?  "  Deane  asked,  and 
entered  hastily.  He  listened  an  instant 
to  make  sure  of  Merritt's  position,  and 
crossed  the  tent  to  him,  feeling  his  way 
with  the  helpless  awkwardness  of  the 

newly  blind. 

158 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

"  Is  there  a  piece  torn  out  of  the  left 
sleeve  of  my  shirt,  near  the  shoulder?" 
he  asked  abruptly,  and  bent  down 
that  Merritt  might  observe.  Merritt 
noticed  that  his  breath  was  quick  and 
his  manner  full  of  a  repressed  excite- 
ment. 

"No,"  Merritt  said.  "  Nothing  wrong 
here." 

"Thank  the  Lord  for  that,"  Deane 
muttered  devoutly.  "  But  then  it's 
mighty  queer.  I  don't  understand  what 
could  have  happened.  .  .  Something 
caught  at  me  just  now,  down  in  the  dig- 
gings ...  I  can't  believe  it's  all  im- 
agination  " 

Simultaneously  Merritt  exclaimed: 

"  Hold  on !  You  said  the  left  sleeve. 
There's  a  six-inch  rip  in  the  right  sleeve, 
159 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

here,  where  I'm  pulling.  Did  you  catch 
it  on  a  nail  ?  " 

Deane  drew  his  breath  in  sharply. 

"  There — is  one,  then  ?  "  he  said  in  an 
odd  voice.  "  No,  I  did  not  catch  it  on 
any  nail." 

Merritt  turned  to  look  at  him. 

"  What's  up?  "  he  demanded. 

But  Deane,  without  noticing  his  ques- 
tion, began  to  speak  rapidly,  in  the  same 
tense  voice. 

"Then  I  believe  anything — everything. 
I  believe  that  the  men  are  right.  I  be- 
lieve the  place  is  cursed.  I  believe  that 
Bob  and  the  Arabs  were  decoyed  and 
trapped  by  unhuman  powers.  I've 
scoffed  and  sneered,  but  now  I  will 
believe  anything  this  land  can  show 

me.      I'm    beaten — done    up.      I    don't 
160 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

understand — but  I  believe.  ...  I  be- 
lieve it!" 

His  voice  dropped  to  a  hoarse  whisper. 
Merritt  stood  up  and  shook  him  gently. 

"  Look  here,  old  man,  this  won't  do. 
Get  yourself  together.  It  won't  last  much 
longer;  in  ten  days  at  most  we'll  be  off." 

"  Ten  days,"  Deane  repeated.  "  Ten 
days.  ...  I  guess  I  can  stand  that, 
can't  I?" 

"  If  you  think  you'd  like  to  start  ahead 
of  me,"  Merritt  said,  "  take  what  stores 
and  men  you  want,  and  start  on  first.  I 
think  that  would~be  the  best  plan,  anyhow. 
Your  eyes  need  treatment;  it  may  be  a 
serious  thing  if  they  don't  get  it  soon.  I 
won't  be  long  behind  you " 

But    Deane   interrupted    with   sudden 

fierceness,  a  burst  of  uncalled-for  anger, 
161 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

so  that  Merritt  stared  at  him  in  sheer 
amazement. 

"  See  here !  Don't  say  that  to  me 
again;  understand?  Why,  do  you  know 
what  you're  inviting  me  to  do?  Play  the 
coward — run  away  and  hide  my  head  in 
the  sand;  make  a  worse  spectacle  of  my- 
self than  I  am  already.  That's  what 
you're  asking  me  to  do!  But  I  won't — 
by  Heaven,  I  won't!  Don't  think  that 
because  I'm  useless  and  not  worth  my 
salt  I'll  let  a  man — any  man — insult 
me " 

But,  on  the  word,  his  voice  changed  and 
hesitated;  his  torrent  of  speech  checked. 
He  said  with  a  certain  timidity  which  sat 
very  strangely  on  him — a  deprecating 
humility  not  good  to  hear: 

"  I — I  don't  mean  that,  Merritt,  upon 
162 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

my  soul,  I  don't !    I  don't  know  what  I'm 
talking  about,  these  days." 

"  You  go  to  bed,"  Merritt  said  with 
decision.  "  That's  the  best  place  for  you 
at  present.  Sleeping  pretty  good, 
lately?" 

"  Not  ten  minutes  since — since  I  got 
back,"  Deane  answered  shortly.  "  Some- 
times I  get  half  off,  but  that — that's 
worse  than  nothing.  Every  time  I  drop 
off  I'm  back — out  there — again,  stum- 
bling over  rocks,  mad  with  hunger  and 
thirst."  He  brushed  the  back  of  a  hand 
across  his  forehead.  "  Or  else  I'm  feel- 
ing dry  arms  around  my  neck,  and  some- 
thing pulling  at  me  the  way — oh,  the  way 
I  dreamt  out  there!"  He  shuddered. 
"  Then  I  stay  awake  the  rest  of  the 
night." 

163 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

"  Deane,  go  home ! "  Merritt  urged 
earnestly.  "  You're  not  fit  to  stay  out 
here.  No  man  would  be,  after — all 
that." 

But  on  the  instant  Deane's  anger  flared 
up  again,  irresponsible,  violent,  wholly 
out  of  proportion  to  its  cause. 

"  Haven't  I  got  enough  to  keep  me 
happy  without  you  to  help  it  on  ?  "  he  said 
with  savage  irony.  "  Do  you  think  I'll 
turn  tail  and  give  up  now,  at  the  eleventh 
hour?" 

"  No;  after  all  I  suppose  it  would  not 
do,"  Merritt  said  gravely,  a  keen  eye  on 
Deane's  drawn  face. 

Deane  calmed  down  at  once. 

"  I  thought  you'd  feel  that  way  about 
it,"  he  said  in  satisfied  tones.  "  You  see, 

of  course,  how  I'm  placed."     He  laughed 
164 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

grimly,  jangling  laughter  that  jarred. 
"  Lord,  what  a  farce  it  is !  Here  I'm 
going  the  way  Hollo  way  went;  coming  to 
you  whining  to  be  put  to  sleep,  as  he  came 
to  me,  poor  devil!  Next  thing,  I'll  be 
crawling  around  your  tent  to  hear  you 
moving  inside;  then  I'll  be  wandering 
down  among  the  tombs;  then " 

"Now  what  are  you  talking  about?" 
Merritt  demanded  helplessly.  "  Don't 
think  about  Holloway  any  more,  there's 
a  good  chap.  Suppose  I  fix  you  up 
something  to  take,  and  you  turn 
in " 

"  The  devil  you  will !  "  Deane  retorted 
with  promptness.  "  You  don't  get 
around  me  that  way,  by  George!  I've 
fixed  up  stuff  for  shaky  devils  myself  be- 
fore this,  and  sent  'em  to  sleep  thinking 
165 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

they  had  a  good  strong  dose  inside  them. 
None  of  your  lime- juice-and- water  tricks 
forme!" 

Merritt  gasped  slightly. 

"Oh— very  well.  Then  I'll  look  in 
later  to  see  how  you  are  getting  on." 

He  turned  to  his  journal  again. 
Deane,  on  his  way  to  the  door,  said 
calmly  over  his  shoulder : 

"  Then  you'd  better  sing  out  loud  be- 
fore you  come  in.  Hamd — that  black 
limb  of  Satan — came  in  on  me  suddenly 
last  night,  and  I  choked  him  silly  before 
he  could  tell  me  who  he  was.  I  haven't 
got  a  rag  of  nerve  left,  that's  the  truth 
of  it." 

He  departed,  swearing  a  little  as  he  ran 
against  a  camp-stool  in  his  path. 

"  Yes  sir !  he's  reached  his  limit.  I've 
got  to  get  him  out  of  this  somehow," 
166 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

said  Merritt,  and  took  up  his  pen  once 
more. 

But  later,  when  Merritt,  loudly  herald- 
ing his  approach,  entered  Deane's  tent, 
Deane  was  not  within.  Merritt  stood  in 
the  doorway  and  looked  about  him,  scowl- 
ing uneasily. 

"  Wish  I'd  kept  him  with  me,"  he  said 
aloud.  "  The  fellow  isn't  fit  to  be  left 
alone  just  now.  He  might — good  Lord! 
why,  he  might  .  .  ." 

He  sat  down  on  the  leather-covered 
trunk  and  waited.  Outside,  the  night 
was  very  still.  No  sound  came  from  the 
camps;  all  the  world  slept.  Merritt 
dozed  uncomfortably,  his  head  fallen  for- 
ward, hands  hanging  limp  between  his 
knees.  It  seemed  to  him,  afterwards, 
that  he  had  slept  thus  a  very  long  time. 

As   one,    in   ten   minutes,    may   dream 
167 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

through  a  cycle  of  time,  so  Merritt  felt 
as  though  half  the  night  had  gone  when 
at  length  he  pulled  himself  together, 
guiltily  conscious  that  he  ought  to  go  and 
look  for  Deane.  He  yawned,  stretched, 
and  got  himself  to  his  feet,  stupid  with 
sleep,  noticing,  irrelevantly,  that  the  lamp 
was  still  burning,  and  that  the  moonlight, 
coming  through  the  open  entrance,  turned 
its  light  wan  and  sickly.  And  then  he 
started,  wide  awake  on  the  instant,  listen- 
ing with  bent  head  and  hands  clenching 
to  a  sound  that  came  out  of  the  night;  a 
moan,  rising  and  swelling  into  a  scream 
that  split  through  the  stillness,  and  stopped 
suddenly  as  though  choked  into  strangled 
quiet,  with  the  silence  settling  deeper  than 
before.  The  cry  came  from  the  excava- 
tions. Merritt  dashed  out  of  the  tent 
and  ran  thither,  his  teeth  set  hard,  every 
168 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

muscle  tense  to  face  he  knew  not  what 
crisis.  But  that  some  crisis  was  at  hand, 
instinct  told  him  surely. 

He  gained  the  edge  of  the  level  which 
overlooked  the  courtyard,  forty  feet  be 
low,  and  looked  down.  There,  among 
the  exhumed  tombs,  was  dense  black 
shadow,  save  at  one  place  only,  in  the 
centre  of  the  open  court,  where  the  moon- 
light fell  like  a  lake  of  silver  at  the  bottom 
of  a  well.  Merritt,  pausing  uncertain 
which  way  to  turn  or  what  to  look  for, 
heard  strange  sounds  arising  from  the 
heart  of  the  shadow  below  him;  heavy 
breathing,  guttural  snarls,  low  and  worry- 
ing, like  an  angry  dog's;  thumping  as 
of  heavy  bodies  at  grips  and  threshing  to 
and  fro.  „  Then  a  thing  appeared,  from 
the  blackness  into  the  patch  of  light,  and 
Merritt  rubbed  his  eyes  to  make  sure  that 
169 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

the  wan  moonlight,  which  turned  all 
things  uncorporeal  as  phantoms,  had  not 
deceived  him — a  thing  that  rolled  upon 
the  ground,  and  rose  and  fell  again  in 
contorted  struggling — an  indeterminate 
mass,  black  against  the  silver,  silent  save 
for  deep  panting  breaths  and  worrying 
snarls.  Merritt  plunged  down  the  slant- 
ing gallery  leading  to  the  courtyard,  leap- 
ing downward  with  great  strides.  Even 
as  he  raced,  his  brain  formulated  theories. 
It  might  be  a  wild  animal — lion — hyena 
— jackal ;  it  might  be  a  native  run  amuck ; 
it  might  be  a  thief.  Whatever  it  was,  it 
had  Deane,  handicapped  by  his  blindness 
and  recent  hardships,  down  and  fighting 

for  his  life 

Merritt  gained  the  lower  level,  stum- 
bled over  an  unseen  obstruction  in  his 
path,    recovered,    and    dashed    into    the 
170 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

courtyard  to  where  the  struggling  mass 
had  been.  Had  been,  but  was  no  longer ; 
for  even  in  the  bare  half-minute  that 
Merritt  had  taken  in  his  descent,  what 
was  to  happen  had  happened.  There  was 
only  a  crumpled  heap  upon  the  ground  in 
the  moonlight,  that  screamed  when  Mer- 
ritt touched  it,  and  clutched  him,  feeling 
with  blind,  desperate  fingers  for  his 
throat.  Merritt  cried  sharply: 

"  Stop  it,  Deane,  stop  it,  I  tell  you ! 
It's  I,  Merritt!  Oh,  man,  are  you  off 
your  head  entirely?  " 

With  difficulty  he  mastered  him,  and 
held  him  down,  repeating  over  and 
over: 

« it's  I— it's  only  Merritt.  Don't  fight 
like  this,  man — can't  you  understand — 
it's  Merritt!" 

Until  Deane's  struggles  ceased,  and  he 
171 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

lay  panting,  with  Merritt's  weight  atop 
of  him. 

"You — Merritt?"  he  said  faintly. 
Merritt,  still  holding  him,  repeated  sooth- 
ing assurances  automatically.  But  Deane 
sat  up  suddenly,  flinging  off  Merritt  as 
though  he  had  been  a  child,  and  cried : 

"Then  where  is  it?  Merritt,  Merritt, 
find  it — find  it  for  the  love  of  Heaven, 
and  burn  it !  It  can't  have  got  very  far — 
I  had  it  sure.  Oh,  go,  old  man,  look  for 
it — it's  here  among  the  tombs  some- 
where !  I  had  it  not  half  a  minute  ago !  " 

Merritt  put  a  hand  on  his  arm,  and  felt 
that  he  was  shaking  all  over. 

"Steady,  old  boy!"  he  said.  "Get 
yourself  together.  There's  nothing  here 
— I'll  swear  there  isn't.  What  was  it  you 
were  doing?" 

"  Doing ! "  Deane  said  between  his 
173 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

teeth.  His  hands  clenched  and  un- 
clenched convulsively.  "  I  tell  you  I  had 
it !  Can't  you  do  as  I  tell  you  ?  Do  you 
want  the  thing  to  get  away  from  us 
again  ?  Oh,  man,  do  as  I  tell  you !  " 

"  Hold  on  a  minute !  What  was  it  you 
had  ? "  Merritt  asked.  Deane's  voice 
rose  to  a  shriek  of  angry  impotence. 

"  The  mummy,  you  fool,  the  mummy ! 
Can't  you  understand?  Will  you  look 
for  it,  damn  you !  " 

"The  mummy !"  Merritt  echoed  blankly. 
The  solution  of  Deane's  conduct  flashed 
upon  him;  Deane  was  undoubtedly  mad; 
the  overwrought  brain  at  last  had  given 
way.  But  Deane  was  speaking,  in  a  high, 
shrill  voice  that  staggered  and  stuttered 
crazily. 

"  I  found  it  here,  down  among  the 
tombs.  I  knew  I  should;  I  was  waiting 
173 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

for  it.  It  came,  and  I  felt  its  arms 
around  my  neck,  and  I  knew  that  the 
dream  I  had  in  the  desert  was  no  dream. 
And  when  I  tried  to  get  away,  it  clung, 
clung  like  a  leech,  with  feet  and  hands 
and  teeth — Merritt!  Oh,  my  God,  Mer- 
ritt,  where  are  you ! "  It  was  the  voice 
of  a  child,  wakened  suddenly,  in  mortal 
terror  to  find  itself  in  the  dark. 

Merritt,  with  instant  comprehension, 
said  quickly : 

"  Here,  old  chap!  It's  all  right— I'm 
here.  I  won't  go  off." 

Deane's  hand  groped  for  his,  and 
clutched  it  with  a  grip  which  made  Mer- 
ritt wince.  His  voice  took  up  its  tale. 

"  I  fought  it  off,  and  it  twined  its  legs 

and  arms  around  mine  and  I  couldn't 

shake  it  off.     I  tried  to  beat  its  head  on 

the  stones,  and  it  fasiened  its  teeth  in  my 

174 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

shoulder  and  held  on.  Then  I  tried  to 
bring  it  up  above.  *  I  let  it  cling,  and  held 
on  to  it,  and  ran ;  but  I  had  lost  my  bear- 
ings and  went  round  and  round  without 
getting  anywhere.  I  reached  the  gallery 
at  last,  but  it  found  out  what  I  was  doing, 
and  fought — God!  how  it  fought  to  get 
away!  I  tripped  it,  and  we  both  fell,  it 
trying  to  break  loose,  and  I  trying  to  hold 
it  down.  And  then  I  heard  a  shout,  and 
steps  coming,  and  it  tore  away  from  me, 
and  I  lost  it." 

"Well,  come  away!"  Merritt  said 
soothingly.  To  himself  he  said  with 
sternness,  "  One  of  us  jackasses  has  got 
to  keep  cool !  " 

Deane   must  be  humoured;   must   be 

coaxed  into  submission.     Deane  laughed. 

"  You  think  I'm  mad,  do  you  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  Well,  I'm  not.     Not  yet.     I'm— I'm  as 

175 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

sane  as  you  are,  but  I  won't  be  very  long. 
If  you  had  felt  it  hanging  to  you,  with  its 
skinny  arms  wound  round  you,  and  you 
not  able  to  see  what  it  was — perhaps 
you'd  be  half-mad  too." 

"  It  couldn't  have  been  the — the 
mummy,  you  know,"  Merritt  said,  as  one 
trying  to  soothe  a  child  to  reason. 
"  That's  quite  absurd.  A  mummy 
couldn't  possibly  be  waltzing  around 
like  this.  It's  not  in  the  nature  of 
things " 

"  Of  course  it's  not  in  the  nature  of 
things !  "  Deane  cut  in  savagely.  "  Don't 
I  know  that  ?  "  His  voice  wavered ;  be- 
came shriller.  "  I  can't  stand  it  any 
longer,  Merritt.  Call  me  any  name  you 

like— I  deserve  it.  But  I'm— I'm " 

He  laughed  again,  crazily,  so  that  Merritt 
started  apprehensively;  and  suddenly 
176 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  sat  with 
long  shudders  chasing  through  him. 
"  I'm  done  up,"  he  said  hoarsely. 

"  Get  up  and  come  with  me,"  Merritt 
ordered.  He  caught  himself  casting  a 
wary  eye  around;  Deane's  collapse  had 
unsteadied  even  his  well-strung  nerves. 
"  We'll  not  stay  here  another  day.  This 
place  is — is  unholy,  that's  all  there  is  to 
it.  Come  away,  old  man." 

He  got  Deane  to  his  feet,  and  Dearie 
clung  to  him  helplessly,  begging  not  to  be 
left  alone.  Carefully  Merritt  led  him  up 
to  the  slanting  gallery,  over  the  cut-up 
ground,  and  to  his  own  tent.  Here  Deane 
sat  obediently  on  the  bed,  turning  his 
white,  haunted  face  always  towards  the 
sound  of  Merritt's  comings  and  goings 
about  the  tent.  Merritt  saw  with  a  sense 
of  shock  that  his  shirt  had  been  torn  into 
177 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

ribbons  on  one  side,  and  on  his  shoulder 
was  blood  and  the  mark  of  teeth.  He 
washed  the  wound  and  touched  it  with 
lunar  caustic;  and  Deane  laughed  grimly 
through  locked  jaws.  Then  Merritt  put 
him  to  bed,  and  lay  down  himself  where 
Deane  might  touch  him  and  be  instantly 
convinced  of  his  presence,  leaving  the 
lamp  still  burning. 

The  tent  fell  into  silence;  but  Merritt, 
always  wakeful,  with  every  nerve  strung 
taut,  felt  subtly  the  tenseness  of  the  figure 
beside  him;  knew  how  Deane,  motion- 
less, was  holding  himself  down  by  sheer 
force  of  will;  and  longed  feverishly  for 
daylight  when  the  nightmare  of  the 
darkness  should  end.  Once,  indeed,  he 
dozed  uneasily,  only  to  be  wakened 

by  Deane's  hands,  wet  with  sweat,  play- 
178 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

ing  over  his  face,  and  Deane's  voice 
whispering : 

"  It's  out  there.  I  hear  it.  Merritt,  if 
it  comes  in  here  I  shall  go  mad !  " 

And  Merritt,  startled  into  quick  con- 
sciousness, sprang  up  and  peered  through 
the  tent-flap  into  the  night,  before  he  real- 
ised the  foolishness  of  his  action,  and  the 
credulity  it  implied.  ' 

"  See  it  ?  "  Deane  asked  tensely  behind 
him.  "  If  it's  there,  I'm  going  out  after 
it.  I  can't  stand  the  notion  of  its  going 
around  loose  any  longer.  Suppose  it  came 
in  here  .  .  ." 

And  Merritt  paused  a  perceptible 
instant  before  replying.  Then  he 
said: 

"  Nothing  out  there " 

And  came  back  and  lay  down  again. 

But  he  did  not  tell  Deane  that  something 
179 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

had  slipped  out  of  his  sight,  behind  a 
mound  into  the  shadows  not  a  dozen 
yards  away;  something,  if  his  eyes  did 
not  deceive  him,  which  was  not  a  goat  at 
large,  nor  a  hyena,  nor  any  creature  that 
walked  upon  four  legs.  And  there  was 
no  noise  in  the  camps  to  indicate  that  men 
were  stirring  there. 

Once  more  there  fell  a  silence.  Out  of 
it  Deane  suddenly  spoke  again,  with  a 
jarring  laugh. 

"This  is  a  hell  of  a  place,  isn't  it?" 
And  then,  "  Oh,  boy,  boy !  If  we  hadn't 
scoffed  and  been  quite  so  confoundedly 
cocksure  of  ourselves  and  our  theories ! " 

Morning  broke.  Before  the  sky  had 
wholly  lost  its  veil  of  night,  Merritt  called 
Ibraheem.  He  came;  but  if  he  drew  con- 
clusions from  the  two  grey  and  drawn 

faces  before  him,  he  made  no  sign.    To 
1 80 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

him  Merritt  gave  certain  orders;  he  ejac- 
ulated in  profane  and  joyful  English  and 
departed.  Fifteen  minutes  later  the  camps 
were  all  astir.  Breakfast  was  being 
cooked  and  eaten,  as  before,  but  there  was 
an  added  hum  of  preparation  and  antici- 
pation. The  cases  containing  tablets  and 
antiquities  were  loaded  carefully  on  cam- 
els; the  camp  dunnage  was  collected  and 
packed;  at  noon  the  tents  were  struck. 
All  hands  helped;  four  were  eagerly 
ready  to  do  the  work  of  one.  The  East 
had  conquered;  whatever  means  she  had 
employed  to  hide  the  remainder  of  her 
treasures  from  the  eyes  of  the  prying 
West,  had  done  their  work.  The  grave, 
half-opened,  was  to  be  left  in  peace.  Her 
methods,  lawful  or  unlawful,  had  sufficed. 
At  sunset  the  caravan  started.  Merritt, 
his  grey  face  and  tired  eyes  seemingly  un- 
181 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

changed,  sober,  yet  with  the  activity  of 
one  who,  in  authority,  must  be  all  things 
to  all  men,  urged  on  the  advance.  Deane, 
silent,  with  brooding  face  and  bowed 
shoulders,  sat  his  horse  listlessly,  leaving 
its  control  to  the  Arab  who  held  the  lead- 
ing-rein. His  reddish  hair  was  touched 
with  grey;  the  lines  of  humour  about  his 
mouth  had  given  place  to  other  lines, 
which  cast  the  face  into  a  new  mould;  he 
looked  aged  by  many  years.  The  sun, 
shooting  his  last  level  rays  across  the  des- 
ert, fell  full  upon  their  faces  as  they  set 
put  upon  their  journey,  leaving  their  work 
half-done. 

The  vanguard  drew  away  over  the  des- 
ert, a  long  string  of  horses  and  men  and 
camels.  In  the  last  moment  of  twilight, 
when  the  sky  was  steeped  in  violet,  and 

the  darkness  rushed  down  upon  them  with 
182 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

swooping  wings,  Merritt  turned  in  his 
saddle  and  looked  back  at  the  scene  of  his 
work.  The  excavations,  only  hastily  filled 
up,  gaped  like  open  wounds  —  wounds 
which  might  never  heal,  but  remain  al- 
ways open  to  the  pitiless  sun  and  the  driv- 
ing sand-storms  and  the  holy  nights — 
half-revealing,  half-concealing  the  secrets 
which  lay  below.  The  half-buried  corpse 
of  the  city  that  had  been,  sank  again  to 
its  broken  rest,  to  lie  a  while  in  pitiful 
nakedness,  and  be  slowly  buried  once 
more,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  beneath  the 
shifting  sand.  Man  had  come,  and  man 
had  gone ;  man  had  come  again,  and  now 
had  gone,  and  the  earth  would  reclaim 
her  own.  The  inscrutable  East,  brooding 
and  sombre,  wise  with  forgotten  evil  lore, 
had  conquered. 

A  sick  goat,  left  behind  as  worthless, 
183 


At  the  Eleventh  Hour 

ran  a  few  steps  after  the  caravan,  bleating 
feebly.  It  stopped  in  front  of  one  of  the 
mounds,  and  looked  after  them,  as  horses 
and  men  moved  slowly  across  the  desert. 
Occasionally,  from  in  front,  voices  were 
heard,  growing  always  fainter  as  the  dark 
string  wound  its  way  westward  against 
the  stars.  But  those  in  the  rear  were  very 
silent.  Merritt,  looking  back,  saw  some- 
thing slipping  among  the  mounds,  a  black 
blot  against  the  dusk,  and  struck  the 
spurs  into  his  horse's  flank.  Then  he  re- 
membered that  it  might  have  been  the 
goat. 

Then  the  curtain  of  night  shut  down, 
and  the  stealthy  moving  thing  was  blotted 
from  his  sight. 


184 


FICTION 

In  similar  binding,  varying  somewhat  with  the  season. 
i2mo.    $1.25  per  volume 

THE    ROMANCE  OF    PISCATOR 

BY  HENRY    WYSHAM   LANIER.    With     Frontispiece  by   WM. 

BALFOUR  KER. 

A  tale  of  how  the  trout  and  landlocked  salmon  temporarily 
lost  their  magic  for  Piscator  before  the  mightier  spells  cast  by 
the  Peri ;  how  he  was  greatly  tempted  by  circumstance,  and 
offended  ;  how  complications  ensued  when  he  followed  the  Peri 
and  her  "  anglemaniac  "  father ;  and  of  wanderings,  adven- 
tures, more  fishing— frequent  fishing— and  an  embarrassing 
climax. 

THE  MICMAC 

By  S.  CARLETON.    With  three  decorations  by  ADAH  EMPIE. 

Though  in  this  tale  four  "  humans  "  are  duly  human,  and  excite 
our  sympathy  and  interest,  the  great  Micmac  swamp  in  Nova 
Scotia  dominates  the  action.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  "  human" 
is  the  fascinating  and  unscrupulous  Mrs.  Marescaux,  who  comes 
to  the  hero  in  his  camp  in  the  deep  woods.  Through  her  mach- 
nations  he  and  the  heroine  have  to  face  many  grim  adventures 
and  death  is  often  imminent.  How  it  comes,  or  if  it  comes,  we 
will  not  tell.  Indian  and  half-  breed  themes  add  picturesqueness. 

UNCLE  MAC'S  NEBRASKY 

BY  WILLIAM  R.  LIGHTON.     Author  of   "  The  Ultimate  Moment," 

etc.    With  Frontispiece  by  W.H.  DUNTON. 

William  R.  Lighten  has  scarcely  a  superior  for  grasp  on  the 
masculine  traits  of  the  earlier  West.  In  this  book  he  gives  bits  of 
conversational  autobiography  from  the  mixed  career  of  "Uncle 
Mac,"  a  genuine  Westerner,  who  went  from  Indiana  in  '55  when 
strenuousness  was  more  a  reality  than  a  fad.  "  Uncle  Mac  "  is  a 
real  live  man,  full  of  shrewd  humor.  His  yarns  are  quite  as 
strange  as  any  truth.  Of  course  there  are  several  lively  frontier 
episodes. 

A  NIGHT  WITH  ALESSANDRO 

By  TREADWELL  CLEVELAND,  JR.    With  three  views  in  colour 

by  ELIOT  KEEN. 

The  action  of  this  stirring  tale  occupies  but  a  single  night,  from 
dark  to  dawn.  The  scene  and  period  are  among  the  most  pict- 
uresque in  history, — Florence  in  the  twilight  of  the  Medicis.  Ac- 
cording to  the  principles  laid  down  by  that  great  historical 
story-teller,  Von  Riehl,  the  principal  characters— a  French  gentle- 
man, sent  by  Charles  V.  to  report  on  the  sentiment  of  the  Floren- 
tines, his  body  servant,  and  the  heroine— are  all  fictitious.  But 
there  are  telling  sketches  of  the  actual  interesting  people  they 
fall  in  with,  including  the  treacherous  banker,  Strozzi  (in  whose 
prison-like  palace  much  of  the  action  passes),  the  dissolute  Duke 
Alessandro,  his  despicable  kinsman  "  Lorenzaccio, "  Cardinal 
Ippolito,  and  others.  Effective  coloured  sketches  of  the  Strozzi 
palace  at  night,  Florence  at  dusk,  and  Fiesole  at  dawn,  embellish 
the  book. 

HENRY   HOLT   AND  COMPANY 

39  W.  23d  St.  (iii  '04)  NEW    YORK 


BY     ARTHUR     COLTON 


Port    Argent 

A  Novel.     With  Frontispiece  by  ELIOT  KEEN.     $1.50 

Port  Argent  is  Mr.  Colton's  most  ambitious  work  thus  far.  It 
presents  a  telling  picture  of  American  life  in  a  Middle  Western  city 
about  1890,  "  a  time  and  place  of  many  experiments  and  many  an  unde- 
nominated  thing."  The  main  action  covers  only  a  few  weeks.  It 
involves  business,  politics,  religion,  sudden  death,  and  love  at  cross- 
purposes,  the  Acadia  of  youth  and  the  problem  of  old  age.  It  offers 
no  panacea  for  the  municipal  disease,  and  guarantees  no  social  dogma, 
neither  does  it  recommend  despair.  It  suggests  that  charity  is  the 
most  comfortable  attitude  toward  one's  neighbor's  sins,  though  not  neces- 
sarily the  most  useful.  Its  villains  are  not  beyond  human  sympathy, 
and  its  heroes  are  imperfect. 

Tioba 

With  a  Frontispiece  by  A.  B.  FROST.     lamo,  $1.25 

Mr.  Colton  here  depicts  a  gallery  of  very  varied  Americans.  Tioba 
was  a  mountain  which  meant  well  but  was  mistaken. 

BOOKMAN : 

"  He  is  always  the  artist  observer,  adding  stroke  upon  stroke 
with  the  surest  of  sure  pens,  ...  an  author  who  recalls  the  old  tra- 
ditions that  there  were  once  such  things  as  good  writing  and  good 
story-telling." 

CRITIC : 

"  In  each  of  these  stories  he  has  presented  some  out-of-the-way 
fragment  of  life  with  faithfulness  and  power.  .  .  .  He  has  the 
artist's  instinct." 

LAMP: 

"  He  has  originality,  feeling,  humor." 

N.  Y.  TRIBUNE : 

"  There  is  serious  thought  as  well  as  good  art  in  this  book; 
there  is  individuality  also,  and  we  gladly  commend  it." 

N.  Y.  EVENING  POST  : 

"  Mr.  Colton  rarely  fails  to  strike  the  reader's  fancy  by  his 
unexpected  and  ingenious  turns  of  thought  and  his  quaint  way  of 
putting  things." 


HENRY     HOLT     AND     COMPANY 

Publishers  (m  '04)  New  York 


"  Conan  Doyle  and  Anna  Katharine  Green  have  a  worthy  rival 
in  Burton  B.  Stevenson."— CHICAGO  RECORD-HERALD. 

2D   PRINTING 

The  Holladay  Case 

By  BURTON  E.   STEVENSON 

With  Frontispiece  by  ELIOT  KEEN 

i2mo,  $1.25 

^[  An  absorbing  tale  of  a  modern  mystery,  in  which  the 
horror  of  the  opening  situation  is  but  lightly  touched  on, 
and  the  chief  appeal  is  made  by  ingenuity,  dramatic  situ- 
ation, and  suspense.  It  starts  with  the  finding  of  a  New 
York  banker,  stabbed  to  death  in  his  office.  The  lawyer 
who  finally  unravels  the  tangle  does  so  in  a  highly  original 
manner.  There  are  many  stirring  incidents,  while  the 
scenes  shift  from  New  York,  partly  in  the  French  quarter, 
to  an  ocean  steamer  and  to  France. 

NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE  :— 

Professor  Dicey  recently  said  to  a  company  of  students: 
"  If  you  like  a  detective  story  take  care  you  read  a  goo_d  de- 
tective story."  This  is  a  good  detective  story,  and  it  is  the 
better  because  the  part  of  the  hero  is  not  filled  by  a  member 
of  the  profession.  .  .  .  The  reader  will  not  want  to  put  the 
book  down  until  he  has  reached  the  last  page.  This  is  one  of 
the  most  ingeniously  constructed  detectivej  stories  we  have 
read  in  a  long  time,  and  it  is  well  written  into  the  bargain. 

NEW  YORK  MAIL  AND  EXPRESS  :— 

Worth  reading  .  .  .  ingenious  without  violating  proba- 
bility. 

SPRINGFIELD  REPUBLICAN  :— 

Unusually  clever. 
BOSTON  TRANSCRIPT  :— 

Developed   with  novelty  and  originality    .     .     .    may  ba 

heartily  commended. 

BUFFALO  COMMERCIAL:— 
Of  rare  interest  and  intricacy. 


HENRY    HOLT    and    COMPANY, 

x)  W.  *3d  Street  (xii  '03)          ,  NEW  YORK 


THIRTEENTH  IMPRESSION  of  "A  novel  novel  and  an 
all-around  good  one." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 


The  Lightning 
Conductor. 

The  Strange  Adventures  of  a  Motor  Car. 

By  C.  N.  and  A.  M.  WILLIAMSON. 

I  lino,  $1.50. 

€|  The  love  story  of  a  beautiful  American  and 
a  gallant  Englishman,  who  stoops  to  conquer. 
Two  almost  human  automobiles,  the  one 
German,  heavy  and  stubborn,  and  the  other 
French,  light  and  easy-going,  play  prominent 
parts.  There  is  much  humor.  Picturesque 
scenes  in  Provence,  Spain  and  Italy  pass  be- 
fore the  reader's  eyes  in  rapid  succession. 

Nation  :  "  Such  delightful  people,  and  such  delightful  scenes.  .  .  . 
It  should  be  a  good,  practical  guide  to  those  about  to  go  over 
the  same  course,  while  its  charming  descriptions  of  travel  afford 
an  ample  new  fund  of  pleasure,  tinged  with  envy  here  and  there 
to  the  stay-at-homes. ' ' 

N.  y.  Sun  :  "A  pleasant  and  felicitous  romance." 

Springfield  Republican  :   "Wholly  new,  and  decidedly  entertaining." 

Brooklyn  Eagle  :  "A  novel  novel  and  an  all-around  good  one." 

Chicago  Pott:   "Sprightly  humor  ,  .  .  the  story  moves." 

Boston  Tranteript :   "Can  hardly  fail  of  a   popular  vote  of  approval." 

HENRY    HOLT  &   COMPANY, 

roar.  («,'°j).  CHICAGO 


